Reading The Hunger Games
by Spectrobes Princess
Summary: The characters of The Hunger Games trilogy are stuck in a house, unable to leave until they read the books. Will learning about the tragedies that await Panem cause President Snow to cancel the Games? Or will the Games continue and The Mockingjay rise? Probably going to be on a temporary hiatus due to work and school but I really don't know yet.
1. Prologue

8/24/14

Prologue

Katniss POV

I expected to wake up in my bed this morning, just like I do every other morning. I did not, however, expect to wake up outside of my bed. As you can probably guess, that's what happened.

I rub the top of my head, wondering if this is just a dream. Surrounding me are several people, some familiar, some not. The first person I see is my sister Prim, curled up on the floor next to a girl around her age. I spot Gale next, then Haymitch, the drunken victor from our district. Our escort, Effie Trinket, is lying just yards away from President Snow, which catches me off guard. Why is he here of all people?

More people start to wake up soon after I do. A bronze haired man wakes up the two brunettes sleeping next to him, an old lady with curly gray hair struggles to stand up until the green eyed brunette helps her find her cane, and a short raven haired girl almost throws the knife she was sleeping with into the wall. Soon, all of us are awake and terribly confused.

Suddenly, from the center of the room, a beam of light shoots into the air, nearly blinding us all. A woman appears inside the light, confusing us even further.

"Please take a seat," the woman says.

"You can't tell me what to do," the brown eyed brunette scoffs.

"Let me rephrase that. Take a seat," the woman says in a much more stern voice. People hesitantly start sitting in the chairs circling the hologram. I find myself stuck between Peeta Mellark and Gale. I awkwardly scoot towards Gale.

"Now, you may be wondering why you're here," the woman says.

"No crap Sherlock," a girl with platinum hair mumbles. This results in a couple of laughs from various parts of the circle.

"The reason you all are here is because of that man right there," she says, gesturing to President Snow. This causes several of us to glare at him, no, all of us actually.

"See, I told you he's the root of all of our problems!" The brown eyed brunette says. The bronze haired man rolls his eyes.

"What do I have to do with any of this?" President Snow asks, narrowing his eyes.

"This is because of the injustice known as The Hunger Games," the woman continues. Everyone shudders at the mention of the Games. "Do you see those books on the table? They contain the consequences for continuing the Games. I will return after you have read them." She turns to the president and adds, "Hopefully you will have changed your mind by then."

Snow glares at her as she disappears, leaving us more confused than ever.

…**..**

**Hi again! So, as you can tell, I've decided to start yet another story. Mostly because I've had this idea for a while and I wanted to write it down before I forgot it. I've seen a lot of fics like this, but I've never found one that the author actually finished. I intend to change that. **

**Updates on this will be irregular, since I have two other stories that are my priority right now. I'll try to update this once a week, I guess. Don't worry, the chapters won't all be this short. This one is just short because it's only a prologue.**

**Any comments or criticism is welcome as always. If anyone has a suggestion for a better title, that would be nice too (I **_**really**_** don't like this one. It seems too cliché). **

**May the odds be ever in your favor,**

**Spectrobes Princess**


	2. The Hunger Games: Chapter 1

9/1/14

**Hi again! I am soooo sorry I haven't been able to update. I had (another) friend move so we had to help her pack her stuff and things like that. Besides, we had to spend a little time with her before she moved 10 hours away to "Middle of Nowhere USA" as Dawn101907 and I refer to it as. **

**Thank you Natilovebooks for following, idecodesx for following, CelestialTitania for following, avr1432 for following, Annabeth- TheTributeThatLived for following and favoriting, dianaemrys15 for following and favoriting, GuitarGal421 for following and favoriting, and thenarnianwitch for following and favoriting.**

**Reviews:**

**Annie (Guest)- Thanks! I think I've seen one or two where he was there, but none of them ever got past the first chapter. **

**Annabeth- TheTributeThatLived: Well, the fourth wall was made to be broken ;)**

**GuitarGal421- Don't worry, I only stop writing stories if I haven't published them yet (well, there was one exception, but that one's currently being re-written). **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or anything else I may mention.**

…**..**

Chapter 1: The Hunger Games (Katniss's POV)

"How long will this take?" the girl next to Prim asks. "I really need to go home."

"The books look pretty thick. Maybe the print won't be too small," one of the boys says.

"Thick? Those books aren't thick! We'll be done in no time," someone else says.

"Maybe it would be helpful if we knew everyone's names," Peeta says. "Peeta Mellark, District 12."

Prim, who's sitting next to him, goes next. "Primrose Everdeen, District 12."

"Rue Stenberg, District 11," the girl next to her says.

"Marvel Quaid, District 1."

"Glimmer Rambin, District 1."

"Cato Ludwig, District 2."

"Clove Fuhrman, District 2."

"Brutus Gunn, District 2."

"Enobaria Golding, District 2."

"What's with all the District 2s? Chaff Mitchell, District 11," Chaff says with a laugh.

"Haymitch Abernathy, District 12, where's the alcohol?" Haymitch asks, causing everyone to burst out laughing.

"Thresh Okeniyi, District 11."

"Finch Emerson, District 5."

"Cecelia Sanchez, District 8."

"Mags Cohen, District 4," an elderly woman says.

There's a pause until finally, the girl with the brown hair and green eyes shyly says, "Annie Cresta, District 4."

"Finnick Odair, District 4."

"Johanna Mason, District 7, mess with me and I'll axe you. And yes, that is a promise," she says grumpily.

"She's kidding," the girl next to her says.

"Oh quiet you," Johanna scoffs.

The girl smiles anyways and says, "I'm Glimmer's sister, Cashmere."

"I'm their brother Gloss," the boy next to her says.

"Wiress Plummer, District 3."

"Beetee Latier, District 3."

"Plutarch Heavensbee, from the Capitol."

"Coriolanus Snow, President of Panem."

"Boo!" Johanna yells, much to everyone's amusement.

"Manners young lady!" Effie shouts. Johanna ignores her. "Effie Trinket, from the Capitol."

"Cinna Kravitz, also from the Capitol."

"Gale Hawthorne, District 12."

I'm suddenly aware that it's my turn. "Katniss Everdeen, District 12. I think that's everyone."

"Let's just get this over with," Haymitch says, snatching up the book on the top of the pile. "The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins."

"Pleasant thing to call a book," Gloss says.

"I can read first," Finnick offers. Haymitch hands him the book.

"_Praise for the Hunger Games Trilogy: "The Hunger Games is a violent, jarring, speed-rap of a novel that generates nearly constant suspense…"_

"Oh for crying out loud Odair, just skip that part," Johanna says, forcefully flipping the page.

"_If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed…""_ Finnick says, putting air quotes around "unsold and destroyed".

"Just give me that," Johanna says, trying to take the book.

"Fine, I'll read the actual book now," Finnick sighs.

"**Thank you**," Johanna says.

Finnick turns the page and actually starts reading. "Part one, The Tributes."

_When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold._

"As oppose to what, being on fire?" Marvel jokes.

_My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim's warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress. She must have had bad dreams and climbed in with our mother. Of course, she did. This is the day of the reapings._

"So Katniss is telling the story?" Prim asks.

"I guess so," I frown.

"So that means we're all somewhere in the book," Johanna says, crossing her arms.

"We'll just have to find out. Katniss, maybe you should read instead of Finnick," Gloss suggests. Before I can answer, Finnick tosses the book to me. I catch it and find the spot Finnick was at.

_I prop myself up on one elbow. There's enough light in the bedroom to see them. My little sister, Prim, curled up on her side, cocooned in my mother's bod, their cheeks pressed together._

"Okay, I'm sorry, but the way you described that sounded really, really creepy," Clove says.

"I thought it was sweet," Cecelia says.

I ignore them and continue with the book.

_In sleep, my mother looks younger, still worn but not so beaten down. Prim's face is fresh as a raindrop, as lovely as the primrose for which she was named. My mother was very beautiful once, too. Or so they tell me._

"I bet someone's glad her mother isn't here to read this," Haymitch says. I duck my head in embarrassment.

"Maybe we shouldn't be reading this," Annie says quietly. We all turn to face her. "It's like reading someone's diary behind their back. I just don't think we should…"

"You have a point, but we need to read this to get out of here," I say, and continue reading. I have to pull through this.

_Sitting at Prim's knees, guarding her, is the world's ugliest cat. Mashed-in nose, half of one ear missing, eyes the color of rotting squash. Prim named him Buttercup, insisting that his muddy yellow coat matched the bright flower. He hates me. Or at least distrusts me._

"Katniss! Buttercup is not ugly!" Prim gasps. "How could you say something like that!"

"My point exactly," Annie mumbles. She then turns to Prim and, as if thinking about it, adds "I think he sounds lovely."

I shake my head.

_Even though it was years ago, I think he still remembers how I tried to drown him in a bucket when Prim brought him home. _

"Quick, someone call the humane society!" Marvel gasps.

_Scrawny kitten, belly swollen with worms, crawling with fleas. The last thing I needed was another mouth to feed. But Prim begged so hard, cried even, that I had to let him stay. It turned out okay. My mother got rid of the vermin and he's a born mouser. Even catches the occasional rat. Sometimes, when I clean a kill, I feed Buttercup the entrails._

"What do you mean, when you clean a kill? Are you an assassin or something?" Chaff laughs.

"No, I hunt," I say, and turn back to the book.

"That's illegal," Snow says.

"Does it look like we care?" Gale asks.

_He has stopped hissing at me. Entrails. No hissing. This is the closest we will ever come to love._

_I swing my legs off the bed and slide into my hunting boots. Supple leather that has molded to my feet. I pull on trousers, a shirt, tuck my long dark braid up into a cap, and grab my forage bag. On the table, under a wooden bowl to protect it from hungry rats and cats alike, sits a perfect little goat cheese wrapped in basil leaves. Prim's gift to me on reaping day._

"Thank you Prim," I smile.

_I put the cheese carefully in my pocket and slip outside._

_Our part of District 12, nicknamed the Seam, is usually crawling with coal miners heading out to the morning shift at this hour. Men and women with hunched shoulders, swollen knuckles, many who have long since stopped trying to scrub the coal dust out of their broken nails, the lines of their sunken faces. But today the black cinder streets are empty. Shutters on the squat gray houses are closed. The reaping isn't until two. May as well sleep in. If you can._

"I don't know how anyone can do it," Cato says.

"Oh I know! It's far too exciting, isn't it?" Effie exclaims. We all glare at her with an equal fury, but she doesn't seem to notice.

_Our house is almost at the edge of the Seam. I only have to pass a few gates to reach the scruffy field called the Meadow. Separating the Meadow from the woods, in fact enclosing all of District 12, is a high chain-link fence topped with barbed-wire loops. In theory, it's supposed to be electrified twenty-four hours a day as a deterrent to the predators that live in the woods…_

""In theory" the Games are supposed to be justified, but they're not, are they?" Johanna says, looking President Snow right in the eyes.

_Packs of wild dogs, lone cougars, bears –that used to threaten our streets_

"What about tigers?" Finnick asks. We look at him in confusion. "You know… lions, tigers, bears. Oh my? Oh whatever, just get on with it."

_But since we're lucky to get two or three hours of electricity in the evenings, it's usually safe to touch. Even so, I always take a moment to listen carefully for the hum that means the fence is live._

"You are not about to…" I cut Haymitch off midsentence and continue.

_Right now, it's silent as a stone. Concealed by a clump of bushes, I flatten out on my belly and slide under a two-foot stretch that's been loose for years. _

"And you just did. Congratulations sweetheart, it looks like you've just earned yourself a death certificate," Haymitch says sarcastically.

"Miss Everdeen, when this is over…" President Snow begins.

_There are several other weak spots in the fence, bu this one is so close to home I almost always enter the woods here. _

_As soon as I'm in the trees, I retrieve a bow and sheath of arrows from a hollow log. Electrified or not, the fence has been successful at keeping the flesh-eaters out of District 12._

"I doubt anything in those woods could be worse than the monsters in my arena," Johanna scoffs.

_Inside the woods they roam freely, and there are added concerns like venomous snakes, rabid animals, and no real paths to follow. But there's also food if you know how to find it._

"Such as venomous snakes and rabid animals," Marvel says.

_My father knew and he taught me some before he was blown to bits in a mine explosion._

The joking tone in the air vanishes. I clench my teeth. I never talk about this to anyone, let alone strangers.

Glimmer looks at me sympathetically. "Do you want me to read?"

Not knowing what else to do, I get up and hand her the book.

Glimmer looks around the room shyly, messes with her twin braids, clears her throat, and continues reading.

_There was nothing even to bury. I was eleven then. Five years later, I still wake up screaming for him to run._

"Sorry," Finch says.

"So you're 16 in the book, right? How old are you now?" Cato asks.

"16," I say nervously. Everyone in the room exchanges a worried look.

"So you're saying this book takes place next week?" Thresh asks.

"Apparently," Glimmer says.

_Even though trespassing in the woods is illegal and poaching carries the severest of penalties, more people would risk it if they had weapons. But most are not bold enough to venture out with just a knife. My bow is a rarity, crafted by my father along with a few others that I keep well hidden in the woods, carefully wrapped in waterproof covers. My father could have made good money selling them, but if the officials found out he would have been publically executed for inciting a rebellion._

"In District 7 that doesn't stop the problem, you know. It just makes it worse," Johanna says.

_Most of the Peacekeepers turn a blind eye to the few of us who hunt because they're as hungry for fresh meat as anybody is. In fact, they're among our best customers. But the idea that someone might be arming the Seam would never have been allowed._

"Wow President Snow, what loyal law enforcement you have," Clove laughs.

_In the fall, a few brave souls sneak into the woods to harvest apples. But always in sight of the Meadow. Always close enough to run back to the safety of District 12 if trouble arises. "District Twelve. Where you can starve to death in safety," I mutter. Then I glance quickly over my shoulder. Even here, even in the middle of nowhere, you worry someone might overhear you._

"If someone's following you, wouldn't they be breaking the law too?" Enobaria asks.

_When I was younger, I scared my mother to death, the things I would blurt out about District 12, about the people who rule our country, Panem, from the far-off city called the Capitol._

"We'll get along just fine," Johanna smirks.

_Eventually I understood this would only lead us to more trouble. So I learned to hold my tongue and to turn my features into an indifferent mask so that no one could ever read my thoughts. Do my work quietly in school._

"School is for losers," Brutus says.

"Well I go to school and…" Peeta says.

"My point exactly."

_Make only polite small talk in the public market. Discuss little more than trades in the Hob, which is the black market where I make most of my money. Even at home, where I am less pleasant, I avoid discussing tricky topics. Like the reaping, or food shortages, or the Hunger Games. Prim might begin to repeat my words and then where would we be?_

"Oh look at that, you even have your own black market. I like this district more than 1 already," Cashmere says.

"Well of course you would say that," Gloss laughs. President Snow glares at them, but this only causes the looks on the twins' faces to turn smug.

_In the woods waits the only person with whom I can be myself. Gale. _

Peeta takes a sudden interest in the carpet.

_I can feel the muscles in my face relaxing, my pace quickening as I climb the hills to our place, a rock ledge overlooking a valley. A thicket of berry bushes protects it from unwanted eyes. The sight of him waiting there brings on a smile. Gale says I never smile except in the woods._

"_Hey, Catnip," says Gale. My real name is Katniss, but when I first told him, I had barely whispered it. So he thought I'd said Catnip. Then when this crazy lynx started following me around the woods looking for handouts, it became his official nickname for me. I finally had to kill the lynx because he scared off game. I almost regretted it because he wasn't bad company. _

"There's your tiger Finnick," Mags smiles.

"Lynxes and tigers are two very different things," Finnick says, rolling his eyes childishly.

_But I got a decent price for his pelt._

"Wow, you really are heartless," Chaff laughs.

"_Look what I shot." Gale holds up a loaf of bread with an arrow stuck in it, and I laugh. It's real bakery bread, not the flat, dense loaves we make from our grain rations. I take it in my hands pull out the arrow, and hold the puncture in the crust to my nose"_

"And sneeze, thus ruining the lovely bakery bread," Marvel jokes. Rue gives him an annoyed look and Glimmer shoves him with her elbow.

"INHALING THE FRAGRANCE," Glimmer loudly reads.

"Sorry Glimm," Marvel says nervously.

"Someone has a crush," I hear Prim whisper to Rue.

_Inhaling the fragrance that makes my mouth flood with saliva. Fine bread like this is for special occasions. _

"_Mm, still warm," I say. He must have been at the bakery at the crack of dawn to trade for it. "What did it cost you?"_

"_Just a squirrel. Think the old man was feeling sentimental this morning," says Gale. "Even wished me luck."_

"_Well, we all feel a little closer today, don't we?" I say, not even bothering to roll my eyes. "Prim left us a cheese."_

"Yes, because Reaping Day is now a national holiday. Let us all sing reaping carols and pinch each other because we are not wearing the colors of the reaping," Enobaria says.

"Don't forget Reaping Clause," Cecelia says.

"Yes, who could forget Reaping Clause? Oh, what a happy day," Enobaria says sarcastically.

"I'm going to execute all of you," President Snow mumbles.

…**..**

**I had to cut it short (big surprise there) so I could finally update. I'll finish up Chapter 1 next update.**

**In the meantime, if there are any specific POVs you want to see (or if you just want to see more of a certain character in general), feel free to mention it. I tried not to put too many characters in there, but… I kinda failed at that.**

**Quote of the day!**

"_Does mother know you weareth her drapes?"_ –The Avengers, Iron Man (I think…)

**May the odds be ever in your favor,**

**Spectrobes Princess **


	3. Chapter 1: Part 2

9/21/14

**Hi again! I'm soooo sorry you've had to wait so long. It's kind of hard to copy the words from the book (especially when you consider that my copy's a paperback). And then my computer crashed, thus deleting all my hard work. So I took a break, got back to it, the dumb thing crashed again… yeah, I've been having **_**so much fun**_** rewriting this chapter for the 80****th**** time!**

**Anyways, I'll try to be quicker next time, 'kay?**

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**Reviews-**

**CelestialTitania: I'm thinking Peeta for the "boy with the bread" story. However, I think Peeta's love confession will be in Gale's POV. Nothing like unnecessary drama, right?**

**Annabeth- TheTributeThatLived: My thoughts exactly ;)**

**Love mangas: Thanks!**

**Afsanabegum19: That's the plan! I think I'll do Catching Fire and Mockingjay too. Eventually.**

**Guest- Thank you **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or anything else I may mention.**

…**..**

Chapter 2: The Immaturity Train

Haymitch's POV

Being stuck in this house in general is bad enough. But being here with Johanna and Enobaria? That only makes it worse. One moment they're friends, but the next they're arguing as if their lives depend on it. Sure, Cashmere's around to keep the peace, but I don't like her either. She's too… honest, I guess. And that honesty could get every victor in trouble someday.

At least none of them are reading right now. I shudder even thinking about it.

_Suddenly he falls into a Capitol accent as he mimics Effie Trinket, the maniacally upbeat woman who arrives once a year to read out the names at the reaping. _

"I am not a maniac!" Effie gasps.

"Sure you aren't," I smirk. Effie gives me the harshest glare I've ever seen, but I really don't care.

"_I almost forgot! Happy Hunger Games!" He plucks a few blackberries from the bushes around us. "And may the odds-" He tosses a berry in a high arc towards me._

_I catch it in my mouth and break the delicate skin with my teeth. The sweet tartness explodes across my tongue. "-be ever in your favor!" I finish with equal verve. We have to joke about it because the alternative is to be scared out of your wits. Besides, the Capitol accent is so affected, almost anything sounds funny in it._

"President Snow is a tyrant," Finnick says in a Capitol accent.

"I will now stab you to death!" Clove says.

"Your family just died," Marvel says.

"Don't joke about that!" Johanna snaps. Everyone gives her a curious look, but she simply walks across the room and snatches the book from Glimmer. "I think I'll read, now," she says in a quiet, pathetic voice. Glimmer silently agrees.

"You okay?" Cashmere asks. Johanna doesn't answer.

_I watch as Gale pulls out his knife and slices the bread. He could be my brother. Straight black hair, olive skin, we even have the same grey eyes. But we're not related, at least not closely. Most of the families who work the mines resemble once another this way. _

_That's why my mother and Prim, with their light hair and blue eyes, always look out of place. They are._

"Rude," Cato says under his breath. Johanna looks at him angrily, so he shuts up.

_My mother's parents were part of the small merchant class that caters to officials, Peacekeepers, and the occasional Seam customer. They ran an apothecary shop in the nicer part of District 12. Since almost no one can afford doctors, apothecaries are our healers. My father got to know my mother because on his hunts he would sometimes collect medicinal herbs and sell them to her shop to be brewed into remedies. She must have really loved him to leave her home for the Seam. I try to remember that when all I can see is the woman who sat by, blank and unreachable, while her children turned to skin and bones. _

"Still a better love story than Twilight!"

Everyone, even Johanna, bursts into laughter.

"What's Twilight?" Katniss asks.

"You don't want to know," Gloss assures her.

_I try to forgive her for my father's sake. But to be honest, I'm not the forgiving type._

_Gale spreads the bread slices with the soft goat cheese, carefully placing a basil lead on each while I strip the bushes of their berries. We settle back in a nook in the rocks. From this place, we are invisible but have a clear view of the valley, which is teeming with summer life, greens to gather, roots to dig, fish iridescent in the sunlight. The day is glorious, with a blue sky and soft breeze. The food's wonderful, with the cheese seeping into the warm bread and the berries bursting in our mouths. Everything would be perfect if this really was a holiday, if all the day off meant was roaming the mountains with Gale, hunting for tonight's supper. But instead we have to be standing in the square at two o'clock waiting for the names to be called out._

"_We could do it you know," Gale says quietly._

"_What?" I ask._

"_Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it," says Gale._

_I don't know how to respond. The idea is so preposterous._

"_If we didn't have so many kids," he adds quickly._

"Oooh," Marvel says, immaturely wiggling his eyebrows.

_They're not our kids, of course. But they might as well be. Gale's two little brothers and a sister. Prim. And you may as well throw in our mothers, too, because how would they live without us? Who would fill those mouths that are always asking for more? With both of us hunting daily, there are still nights when game has to be swapped for lard or shoelaces or wool, still nights when we go to bed with our stomachs growling._

"_I never want to have kids," I say._

"_I might. If I didn't live here," says Gale._

"_But you do," I say, irritated._

"_Forget it," he snaps back._

_The conversation feels all wrong. Leave? How could I leave Prim, who is the only person in the world I'm certain I love? And Gale is devoted to his family. We can't leave, so why bother talking about it? And even if we did… even if we did… where did this stuff about having kids come from? _

"The mind of a perverted 18 year old?" Clove guesses.

"Hey! I'm 18!" Cato says.

"Exactly," Clove says.

_There's never been anything romantic between Gale and me. When we met, I was a skinny twelve-year-old, and although he was only two years older, he already looked like a man. It took a long time for us to even become friends, to stop haggling over every trade and begin helping each other out._

_Besides, if he wants kids, Gale won't have any trouble finding a wife. He's good-looking, he's strong enough to handle the work in the mines, and he can hunt. You can tell by the way the girls whisper about him when he walks by in school that they want him. _

"Feeling uncomfortable yet Gale?" Chaff laughs. Gale only shoots him a particularly nasty glare.

"If glares could kill, this room would have an increasingly large dead body count," Finch muses.

"Not any more than the Hunger Games themselves," says Enobaria, always ready to insult our government.

_It makes me jealous but not for the reason people would think. Good hunting partners are hard to find._

"Or are you hunting partners?" Finnick asks suggestively.

"I don't want to talk about it," Gale and Katniss say in unison, causing Peeta to look strangely upset.

"That doesn't exactly sound like denial," Finnick muses. Johanna lightly thumps the book over his head before continuing to read.

"_What do you want to do?" I ask. We can hunt, fish, or gather._

"Or do other things," Marvel says with an evil laugh.

"_Let's fish at the lake. We can leave our poles and gather in the woods. Get something nice for tonight," he says._

"Tonight," Finnick and Marvel laugh.

"All aboard the immaturity train," Clove says, rolling her eyes.

_Tonight. After the reaping, everyone is supposed to celebrate. And a lot of people do, out of relief that their children have been sparred for another year. But at least two families will pull their shutters, lock their doors, and try to figure out how they will survive the painful weeks to come._

_We make out well. _

Marvel looks like he's about to speak, but Glimmer claps a hand over his mouth.

"Don't you dare," she says.

_The predators ignore us on a day when easier, tastier prey abounds. By late morning, we have a dozen fish, a bag of greens and, best of all, a gallon of strawberries. I found the patch a few years ago, but Gale had the idea to string mesh nets around it to keep out the animals._

_On the way home, we swing by the Hob, the black market that operates in an abandoned warehouse that once held coal. _

"You know, District 1 used to have a couple black markets," Cashmere says, more to President Snow than anyone else. "Of course, then the peacekeepers shut 'em all down. Did more harm than good, if you ask me. Then again, so does our beloved President."

"Shut your mouth Miss Rambin," Snow says through gritted teeth.

"What are you gonna do, kill everyone I love, like you did Johanna?"

"Cash," Gloss warns.

"Because most of 'em are in this room. Face it Snow, there's nothing you can do," Cashmere says proudly. Johanna nudges the younger victor with her elbow, effectively shutting her up.

_When they came up with a more efficient system than transported the coal directly from the mines to the trains, the Hob gradually took over the space. Most businesses are closed by this time on reaping day, but the black market's still fairly busy. We easily trade six of the fish for good bread, the other two for salt. Greasy Sae, the bony old woman who sells bowls of hot soup from a large kettle, takes half the greens off our hands in exchange for a couple of chunks of paraffin. We might do a tad better elsewhere, but we make an effort to keep on good terms with Greasy Sae. She's the only one who can consistently be counted on to buy wild dog. We don't hunt them on purpose, but if you're attacked and you take out a dog or two, well, meat is meat. "Once it's in the soup, I'll call it beef," Greasy Sae says with a wink. No one in the Seam would turn up their nose at a good leg of wild dog, but the Peacekeepers who come to the Hob can afford to be a little choosier. _

Suddenly, Snow starts gagging.

"What?" Plutarch asks.

"The-the last time I was in District 12, I-I ate…" he begins before fainting.

"Will he be okay?" Prim asks.

"Who cares?" Johanna smirks. "Once he's in the soup, we'll call _him _beef."

"Don't talk about it," Annie mumbles.

"What?" Johanna asks.

"You know, eating people," she says in a whisper. Our fellow victors nod wordlessly, while everyone else gives her confused looks.

"I'll get evil Santa out of the room," Finnick says, eager to change the subject. "In the meantime, let's take a little break."

Well, who am I to argue with that?

…**..**

**Hopefully I'll update soon. I dunno, I'm kinda juggling 4 stories at the moment, and that's not even counting the ones I haven't posted. But hey, I'd write all day if given the chance. I don't think it'll be that big of a problem. (now we just have to hope my silly laptop cooperates) **

**Quote of the day!**

"_If you'll excuse me, I have some magic turtle poop to clean up…. Just to clarify, the turtles are not magic. The poop is."_ –Fairly Odd Parents, Jorgen VonStrangle

**May the odds be ever in your favor,**

**Spectrobes Princess**


	4. Chapter 1: Part 3

11/17/14

**Hi again! I am sorry to report two things. The first is that this will be the only November update. Sorry guys, but that's all I got around to writing. The second is that I didn't really get to finish writing this chapter. So next chapter we will not be going on to Chapter 2. Sorry, but I only had so much time to prep for NaNoWriMo, and it's currently killing me. I'm pretty far behind on my word count, actually…**

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**Reviews:**

**B-The-Geek: Thanks! And yes, tea is awesome.**

**PixelArtyGirl1: Johanna seems to be the only person who ships it harder than President Snow. :p**

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**Afsanabegum19: Sorry! I try to make these chapters long, I really do**

**Guest: Okay**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or anything else I may mention**

…**..**

Chapter 4: Interrupting

Enobaria's POV

I glare at Brutus as he reclaims his spot between me and his niece. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"Well for starters, when I was talking to Haymitch _someone _kicked us out of the kitchen," I say, shooting a glare in Johanna's general direction. "And I'm pretty sure the younger victors are up to something."

"Johanna kicking people out of the kitchen is nothing new Baria," Brutus says.

"Did you not hear me? Just look at those five! Tell me they're not up to something!"

Brutus looks at them for a moment. "Aren't they always up to something?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

Brutus raises an eyebrow.

"That's cheating!" I snap.

"What's cheating?" Brutus says way too innocently.

"I lost the game again!"

"Ha!" Brutus laughs.

"Really Brutus?" Clove asks, crossing her arms. "Isn't that trick getting old by now?"

"It's not my fault raising an eyebrow reminds Baria of the game, honest," Brutus says.

"Liar," she mumbles.

"Teenagers. Can you believe them?" Brutus says.

Clove turns to Cato. "Old guys. Can you believe them?"

Brutus pretends that Clove's words offended him. "Hey butt-monkey, you had it coming," I scoff.

"So what exactly do you think they're up to?" Brutus asks.

"I don't know…" I say.

Clove peeks over her uncle's head and looks at the group of victors. "You're right. They're definitely up to something."

"But what?" Brutus asks.

"So who's going to read?" Cecelia loudly interrupts us.

"I can," Chaff says getting up to take the book.

_When we finish our business at the market, _

Johanna grabs Finnick by the ear and growls something along the lines of, "Make another poop joke and you're dead meat, fish boy!" Finnick nods his head fearfully.

_we go to the back door of the mayor's house to sell half the strawberries, knowing he has a particular fondness for them and can afford our price. The mayor's daughter, Madge, opens the door. She's in my year at school. Being the mayor's daughter, you'd expect her to be a snob, but she's all right. _

"Yay stereotypes!" Clove says sarcastically. "Except for you, Effie. I think you fit in just fine with the _bratty_ Capitolites."

"What are you saying!" Effie gasps.

"Just that some stereotypes are accurate," Clove shrugs. Brutus glares at her but it doesn't seem to have any effect.

"Not all Capitolites are bad," Finnick adds. "But Effie, you really haven't proven yourself worthy of joining the Tigris group at this point."

"Sorry," Annie pipes up.

Effie glares at them, but they don't notice.

_She just keeps to herself. Like me. Since neither of us really has a group of friends, we seem to end up together a lot at school. Eating lunch, sitting next to each other at assemblies, partnering for sports activities. We rarely talk, which suits us both just fine. _

_Today her drab school outfit has been replaced by an expensive white dress, and her blonde hair is done up with a pink ribbon. Reaping clothes. _

"Drab," Marvel snickers. "That's a funny word."

"Oh my gosh," Clove mutters. "Will you just shut up."

"_Pretty dress," says Gale._

_Madge shoots him a look, trying to see if it's a genuine compliment or if he's just being ironic. It is a pretty dress, but she would never be wearing it ordinarily. She presses her lips together and then smiles. "Well, if I end up going to the Capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?"_

_Now it's Gale's turn to be confused. Does she mean it? Or is she messing with him? I'm guessing the second._

"_You won't be going to the Capitol," says Gale coolly. His eyes land on a small, circular pin that adorns her dress. Real gold. _

"How do you know?" Finch asks. "What if it's fake gold?"

"Sweetheart," Haymitch sighs. "Even if there isn't gold in our mines, miners know what it looks like. Now will you please stop asking questions?"

"Actually, this is the first question Finch has asked this entire time," Cashmere points out. "And unlike some of the things Marvel and Finnick have asked, that was a genuine question. What's the harm in that?"

The two victors lock eyes for a moment as if they're deciding if a fight is really necessary at this point.

Their relationship is the closest thing we've ever had to hatred between two victors. Sure, there's a small chance that it's just bitterness or resentment, but it's not likely. Cashmere has held an uncharacteristic grudge over him since her first time mentoring. Although the details are fuzzy, I believe it was because he had a chance to save his tributes but was too drunk to take it. When Haymitch was finally sober, he somehow managed to remember the incident. He made the mistake of bringing it up when she was unable to send anything to a drowning tribute. Ever since then, there's been an unmistakable tension between the two.

But enough about that. Chaff's _finally _reading again.

_Beautifully crafted. It could keep a family in bread for months. "What can you have? Five entries? I had six when I was just twelve years old."_

"Wow Gale, way to be rude," Clove says.

"Oh like you've ever had to take tesserae," Gale shoots back.

"_That's not her fault," I say._

Chaff pauses and repeats the line again. "See? There's absolutely no reason to fight over it."

"Exactly. Thank you Chaff," Clove says.

"_No, it's no one's fault. Just the way it is," says Gale._

_Madge's face has become closed off. She puts the money for the berries in my hand. "Good luck, Katniss."_

"_You too," I say, and the door closes._

_We walk toward the Seam in silence. I don't like that Gale took a dig at Madge, but he's right, of course. The reaping system is unfair, with the poor getting the worst of it. You become eligible for the reaping the day you turn twelve. That year, your name is entered once. At thirteen, twice. And so on and so on until you reach the age of eighteen, the final year of eligibility, when your name goes into the pool seven times. That's true for every citizen in all twelve districts in the entire country of Panem._

"You mean, unless President Snow rigs the reapings," Johanna points out.

"What do you mean Miss Mason? The reaping system is completely fair," Snow says.

"Completely fair my butt," Johanna scoffs. "Raise your hand if you totally buy this bull-crap."

As expected, not even Effie raises her hand.

"You've even had me rig it before," Effie points out.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Snow says coolly.

"Liar-liar pants on fire," Glimmer scoffs.

_But here's the catch. Say you are poor and starving as we were. You can opt to add your name more times in exchange for tesserae. Each tessera is worth a meager year's supply of grain and oil for one person. You may do this for each of your family members as well. So, at the age of twelve, I had my name entered four times. Once, because I had to, and three times for tesserae for grain and oil for myself, Prim, and my mother. In fact, every year I have needed to do this. And the entries are cumulative. So now, at the age of sixteen, my name will be in the reaping twenty times. Gale, who has been either helping or single-handedly feeding a family of five for seven years, will have his name in forty-two times._

_You can see why someone like Madge, who has never been at risk of needing a tessera, can set him off. The chance of her name being drawn is very slim compared to those of us who live in the Seam. Not impossible, but slim. And even though the rules were set up by the Capitol, not the districts, certainly not Madge's family, it's hard not to resent those who don't have to sign up for tesserae._

_Gale knows his anger at Madge is misdirected. _

"Okay, because no one's interrupted in a while, I'm going to make an announcement!" Finnick says, standing up on his chair.

"Oh no," Rue groans.

"Even I know this can't end well," Marvel agrees.

He locks eyes with Peeta and says, "I love sugar cubes. Peeta loves something too. And by that, I mean some_one_. Would you care to tell them, Peeta?"

Peeta turns a nice shade of red. "No thanks Finnick, I'm good."

"Get down you idiot," Johanna says. "This is not what I had in mind!"

"What do you mean?" Katniss asks.

"Uh oh," Johanna mumbles.

"Can you, um, you know, get back to reading, Chaff?" Gloss asks.

"Sure?" Chaff says, confused.

_On other days, deep in the woods, I've listened to him rant about how the tesserae are just another tool to cause misery in our district. A way to plant hatred between the starving workers of the Seam and those who can generally count on supper and thereby ensure we will never trust another. "It's to the Capitol's advantage to have us divided among ourselves," he might say if there were no ears to hear but mine. If it wasn't reaping day. If a girl with a gold pin and no tesserae had not made what I'm sure she thought was a harmless comment._

_As we walk, I glance over at Gale's face, still smoldering underneath his stony expression. _

"For a second I thought you said stoner expression. That would be awkward," Finnick says. "But, you know, um… not as awkward as this."

Johanna facepalms. "Just… ignore him."

_His rages seem pointless to me, although I never say so. It's not that I don't agree with him. I do. But what good is yelling about the Capitol in the middle of the woods? It doesn't change anything. It doesn't make things fair. It doesn't fill our stomachs. In fact, it scares off the nearby game. I let him yell though. Better he does it in the woods than in the district._

"You know, you should try yelling in the district sometime. It's surprisingly satisfying," Johanna says.

"I can't say the same for 12, but in 11 the Peacekeepers are pretty bad," Thresh says.

"They're rotten in 2, too," Cato agrees.

"That can't be anything compared to 7," Johanna says. "A bunch of agenda pushes, I guess."

"Then why do you…"

"They can't hurt me," Johanna interrupts, answering Gale's question.

"What do you mean?" Gale asks.

Johanna pauses and takes a deep breath. "They just can't, okay. Chaff… just… go on."

_Gale and I divide our spoils, leaving two fish, a couple of loaves of good bread, greens, a quart of strawberries, salt, paraffin, and a bit of money for each._

"_See you in the square," I say._

"_Wear something pretty," he says flatly._

The five younger victors exchange a dangerous look. This _can't_ end well.

…

**Sorry if this chapter isn't quite as funny as the others. This chapter was written on nothing but stress. *cue nervous laugh***

**I'll try to write an **_**extra **_**long chapter when November is over. Or you know, at least try to get to the part where Prim gets reaped. No promises, because I can never seem to keep those.**

**And since I won't be seeing you again until December, WHO'S EXCITED FOR MOCKINGJAY! Cuz I know I am! I'm pretty much bouncing off the walls in excitement. It's only a couple days away now!**

**Quote of the day!**

"_Why do we have to learn Spanish? I'm already fluent in English and sarcasm." _

**May the odds be ever in your favor,**

**Spectrobes Princess**


	5. Chapter 1: Part 4

12/19/14

**Hi again! I'm sorry I took so long. Between NaNoWriMo and getting the flu, I haven't had much time to work on this story. Thankfully I'm better now, so I think I'll start to pick up the pace a little.**

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**Reviews-**

**Pathea: Thanks :)**

**Annabeth-TheTributeThatLived: A really stupid question, that's what :D! Weeding out the weaklings, that's what I was doing. Self-aware characters are the best!**

**Afsanabegum19: Happy late birthday! :D**

**PixelArtyGirl1: I think they should start teaching foreign languages to us when we're little kids, that way it's easier for us to learn them. I guess that's the one good thing Dora The Explorer has going on *shrugs***

**BecksTheDivergent: Awesome! Happy late birthday to you, too! XD (as a side-note, it seems like a lot of my reviewers have birthdays in November. I think you're the third one to mention it ^.^)**

**Kakima54: As odd as it sounds, that's the part I'm looking forward to writing the most. I hate how a lot of these are just humor, and the characters are barely reacting to the serious issues going on. I'm going to try to make this one better about things like that. Looking back on the seating chart I made when I started the fic, oddly enough I made 3 people sit next to their killers (Rue, Wiress, and Cashmere are sitting beside Marvel, Gloss, and Johanna). Maybe I'm just a little **_**too**_** overdramatic…**

**Gabby Delacour: Thanks for reminding me :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or anything else I may mention.**

**Sorry that this chapter isn't really as good as the others. I was writing this to take my mind off my sore throat and, well, it didn't work the best…**

…

Chapter 5: They're Never In Our Favor

**General POV, because I'm getting tired of writing in different POVS each time. Don't worry, I'll probably go back to the other thing later.**

Johanna tapped her fingers on her knees anxiously. _Well, so much for that plan_, she thought to herself. She exchanged a glance with Finnick, who merely shrugged in response. Johanna groaned and looked over at Chaff.

"Can I see that?" Johanna asked.

"I thought you already read…" Chaff said, tossing the book to her. She tried to catch it, but it slipped out of her hands and landed on the floor next to Gloss.

All eyes landed on Johanna, as expected. She shrugged and took the book from the District 1 victor, quickly finding the right spot. As much as she wanted to skim it, at the same time she knew that it was a bad idea. She cleared her throat and began reading.

_At home, I find my mother and sister are ready to go. My mother wears a fine dress from her apothecary days. Prim is in my first reaping outfit, a skirt and ruffled blouse. It's a bit big on her, but my mother has made it stay with pins. Even so, she's having trouble keeping the blouse tucked in at the back._

_A tub of warm water waits for me. I scrub off the dirt and sweat from the woods _

"I'm guessing this part was written for the teenage boys?" Finnick interrupted.

"You're not helping," Johanna said with a glare.

"I know."

_and even wash my hair. To my surprise, my mother has laid out one of her own lovely dresses for me. A soft blue thing with matching shoes._

"_Are you sure?" I ask. I'm trying to get past rejecting offers of help from her. For a while, I was so angry I wouldn't allow her to do anything for me. And this is something special. Her clothes from her past are very precious to her._

"Can you say materialistic?" Clove scoffed.

"_Of course. Let's put your hair up, too," she says. I let her towel dry it and braid it up on my head. I can hardly recognize myself in the cracked mirror that leans against the wall._

"_You look beautiful," says Prim in a hushed voice._

"_And nothing like myself," I say. I hug her, because I know these next few hours will be terrible for her. Her first reaping. She's about as safe as you can get, since she's only entered once. I wouldn't let her take out any tesserae. But she's worried about me. That the unthinkable might happen._

Johanna paused, briefly remembering her own first reaping. The others seemed to do this too, before Johanna continued.

_I protect Prim in every way I can, but I'm powerless against the reaping. The anguish I always feel when she's in pain wells up in my chest and threatens to register on my face. I notice her blouse has pulled out of her skirt in the back again and force myself to stay calm. "Tuck your tail in, little duck," I say, smoothing the blouse back in place._

_Prim giggles and gives me a small "Quack."_

"_Quack yourself," I say with a light laugh. _

"Unnecessary censorship: the movie," Marvel said in a dramatic voice.

"That doesn't make any sense," Clove deadpanned.

"Think about it. Quack could replace… a word I refuse to say because Prim and Rue are listening to my every word," Marvel said.

"Yet you didn't have _any _problem with innuendo," Clove said, shaking her head. "And that _still_ doesn't make any sense."

_The kind only Prim can draw out of me. "Come on, let's eat," I say and plant a quick kiss on the top of her head._

_The fish and greens are already cooking in a stew, but that will be for supper. We decide to save the strawberries and bakery bread for this evening's meal, to make it special we say. Instead we drink milk from Prim's goat, Lady, _

"Good grief girl, how many pets do you have?" Glimmer asked.

"Just Buttercup and Lady," Prim said. "I wanted a puppy too, but Katniss said…"

"It wasn't a puppy, it was a wolf," Katniss said. "I thought I explained that to you."

"But still! People keep wild animals as pets all the time," Prim said with a frown.

"Prim, it had _rabies_," Katniss deadpanned. "We were not going to keep a rabid animal in the house."

"But why did you have to shoot him!" Prim wailed.

"It had _rabies_! I was putting him out of his misery!" Katniss groaned.

"Can she keep the rabid wild animal next time?" Plutarch laughed. Katniss rolled her eyes.

_and eat the rough bread made from tessera grain, although no one has much appetite anyway._

_At one o'clock, we head for the square. Attendance is mandatory unless you are on death's door. This evening, officials will come around and check to see if this is the case. If not, you'll be imprisoned. _

"I skipped the reapings once," Enobaria smirked. President Snow gave her a "shut up" look. "Oh, don't be so surprised. You probably already knew that. You creepy stalker."

"I have no comment," President Snow said dryly.

_It's too bad, really, that they hold the reaping in the square- one of the few places in District 12 that can be pleasant. The square's surrounded by shops, and on public market days, especially if there's good weather, it has a holiday feel to it. But today, despite the bright banners hanging on the buildings, there's an air of grimness. The camera crews, perched like buzzards on rooftops, only add to the effect._

_People file in silently and sign in. The reaping is a good opportunity for the Capitol to keep tabs on the population as well. Twelve through eighteen year olds are herded into roped areas marked off by ages, the oldest in the front, the young ones, like Prim, toward the back. _

"Just like the cattle we are," Finnick said.

"More like helpless little sheep," Glimmer said. When Effie gave her a look of horror, she merely added, "Oh no, the big bad wolf is going to get us! Everyone, run!"

"Good one," Marvel laughed, causing Glimmer to blush.

"That's the wrong fairy tale!" Effie huffed.

"Leave it to a Capitolite," Haymitch commented.

_Family members line up around the perimeter, holding tightly to one another's hands. But there are others, too, who have no one they love at stake, or who no longer care, who slip among the crowd, taking bets on the two kids whose names will be drawn. Odds are given on their ages, whether they're Seam or merchant, if they will break down and weep. _

"Good to know it's not just 11 that does that," Thresh said.

_Most refuse dealing with the racketeers but carefully, carefully. These same people tend to be informers, and who hasn't broken the law? I could be shot on a daily basis for hunting but the appetites of those in charge protect me. Not everyone can claim the same._

_Anyway, Gale and I agree that if we have to choose between dying of hunger and a bullet in the head, the bullet would be much quicker._

_The space gets tighter, more claustrophobic as people arrive. The square's quite large, but not enough to hold District 12's population of about eight thousand. Latecomers are directed to the adjacent streets, where they can watch the event on screens as its televised live by the state._

_I find myself standing in a clump of sixteens from the Seam. We all exchange terse nods then focus our attention on the temporary stage that is set up before the Justice Building. It holds three chairs, a podium, and two large glass balls, one for the boys and one for the girls. I stare at the paper slips in the girls' ball. Twenty of them have Katniss Everdeen written on them in careful handwriting._

"Who cares what they say, since their purpose is total bull crap," Cashmere scoffed.

"I have trained you well," Johanna says.

"What is this about the Games?" President Snow said.

"What are you gonna do about it? Your precious little Peacekeepers are nowhere to be found, aren't they?" Johanna cackled.

"Yeah, face it. We can make as many rebellious little comments as we want, and there's nothing you can do about it. Ha-ha, we win, you lose," Cashmere said immaturely.

"See what I have to deal with every day?" Gloss whispered to Wiress.

_Two of the three chairs fill with Madge's father, Mayor Undersee, who's a tall, balding man, and Effie Trinket, District 12's escort, fresh from the Capitol with her scary white grin, pinkish hair, and spring green suit. _

A look of offense was plastered onto Effie's face. "My face is not scary!"

"Maybe it wouldn't be so scary if you used less makeup," Cinna commented quietly.

_They murmur to each other and then look with concern at the empty seat._

_Just as the town clock strikes two, the mayor steps up to the podium and begins to read. It's the same story every year. He tells of the history of Panem, the country that rose up out of the ashes of a place that was once called North America. He lists the disasters, the droughts, the storms, the fires, the encroaching seas that swallowed up so much of the land, the brutal war for what little substance remained. The result was Panem, a shining Capitol ringed by thirteen districts, _

"Blah blah blah, we already know this, can we just get on with it," Cato sighed.

Johanna shook her head. "Look Mr. Impatient, I know you're just _dying_ to get home so you can volunteer for this death trap, but part of the deal is that we read the whole book. I don't like it any more than you do, so just buck it up and deal with it."

_which brought peace and prosperity to its citizens. Then came the Dark Days, the uprising of the districts against the Capitol. Twelve were defeated, the thirteenth obliterated. The Treaty of Treason gave us new laws to guarantee peace and, as our yearly reminder that the Dark Days must never be repeated, it gave us the Hunger Games._

_The rules of the Hunger Games are simple. In punishment for the uprising, each of the twelve districts must provide one girl and one boy, called tributes, to participate. The 24 tributes will be imprisoned in a vast outdoor arena that could hold anything from a burning desert to a frozen wasteland. _

"Oh the irony," Gloss and Cashmere chimed, remembering their own arenas.

_Over a period of several weeks, the competitors must fight to the death. The last tribute standing wins._

_Taking the kids from our districts, forcing them to kill one another while we watch- this is the Capitols' way of reminding us how we are at their mercy. How little chance we would stand of surviving another rebellion. Whatever words they use, the real message is clear. "Look how we take your children and sacrifice them and there's nothing you can do. If you lift a finger, we will destroy every last one of you. Just as we did in District 13."_

"If only you knew," Plutarch commented.

_To make it humiliating as well as torturous, the Capitol requires us to treat the Hunger Games as a festivity, a sporting event pitting every district against the others. _

"You mean it isn't?" Enobaria gasped in mock-shock. "Oh my goodness, we need to tell the rest of our district. Oh wait, they already know! Psych!"

_The last tribute alive receives a life of ease back home, _

"We need a lie detector and fast," Cecelia said.

_and their district will be showered with prizes, largely consisting of food. All year, the Capitol will show the winning district gifts of grain and oil and even delicacies like sugar while the rest of us battle starvation._

"_It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks," intones the mayor. _

"This is not a form of brainwashing, this is not a form of brainwashing," Clove said, widening her eyes to make her appear to be in a trance.

_Then he reads the list of past District 12 victors. In 74 years, we have had exactly two. Only one is still alive. Haymitch Abernathy, a paunchy, middle-aged man, who at this moment appears hollering something unintelligible, staggers onto the stage, and falls into the third chair. He's drunk. Very. The crowd responds with its token applause, but he's confused and tries to give Effie Trinket a big hug, which she barely manages to fend off. _

"I'll have you know we're thoroughly enjoying this over in the victors' section," Finnick smirked.

"Shut up," Haymitch groaned.

"The citizen section too," Marvel laughed.

"Well, I don't think it's funny," Effie huffed.

_The mayor looks distressed. Since all of this is being televised, right now District 12 is the laughing stock of Panem, and he knows it. He quickly tries to pull the attention back to the reaping by introducing Effie Trinket. _

"Don't worry about it," Finnick said quickly. "Small minds are easily distracted. The Capitol will forget about it soon."

_Bright and bubbly as ever, Effie Trinket trots to the podium and gives her signature, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be__** ever **__in your favor!" Her pink hair must be a wig because her curls have shifted slightly off center since her encounter with Haymitch. She goes on a bit about what an honor it is to be here, although everyone knows she's just aching to get bumped up to a better district where they have proper victors, not drunks who molest you in front of the entire nation._

"Am not!" Effie gasps.

"And pigs fly," Wiress said quietly. Gloss and Cashmere bursted out in laughter, while Beetee only smirked.

"What?" Johanna asked. When no one answered, she added, "Fine, be like that."

_Through the crowd, I spot Gale looking back at me with a ghost of a smile. As the reapings go, this one at least has a slight entertainment factor. But suddenly I am thinking of Gale and his 42 names in that big glass ball and how the odds are not in his favor. Not compared to a lot of the boys. And maybe he's thinking the same thing about me because his face darkens and he turns away. "But there are still thousands of slips," I wish I could whisper to him._

"I only had 7 or so slips when I was reaped," Cashmere said. "The odds have nothing to do with it. Besides, we all know it was because of what Gloss did on the victory tour."

"What did he do?" Peeta asked.

"Two words: rebellious and speech," Glimmer said.

"It was kinda hilarious," Cashmere said with a smirk.

"Hilarious is one word for it," President Snow said sarcastically.

"It's about time you accepted it," Gloss said. "Because I really didn't appreciate it when you reaped my baby sisters two years in a row."

"Be thankful that your little girlfriend volunteered the second time. Oh wait, that's right. She wasn't _your _girlfriend anymore," President Snow said.

"You think you've won, haven't you?" Cashmere growled. "Well the thing is, you haven't! So you can just shut your pathetic mouth and deal with it!"

"Okay, that's enough," Johanna cut them off. "There's only a couple paragraphs left before we finish this chapter. When we're done with the books the three of you can shred our_ beloved _president into as many tiny pieces as you please. But for now, you can't."

"Party pooper," Glimmer mumbled.

"I'd be glad to help you with the shredding," Cato whispered.

"Nah, you can hide the body though," Glimmer smirked.

"Deal."

Johanna cleared her throat and continued reading.

_It's time for the drawing. Effie Trinket says as she always does, "Ladies first!" and crosses to the glass bowl with the girls names. She reaches in, digs her hand deep into the ball, and pulls out a slip of paper. The crowd draws in a collective breath and then you can hear a pin drop, and I'm feeling nauseous and so desperately hoping that it's not me, that it's not me, that it's not me._

_Effie Trinket crosses back to the podium, smoothes the slip of paper, and reads out the name in a clear voice. _

Johanna read the next sentences in her head and paused. She now understood the presence of the tiny twelve year old girl. "Are you sure you want to finish reading this? Because we can always try to sneak out of the house."

"Why? We all know it's probably me. After all, I'm the one reading this," Katniss said, trying to mask her emotions. "I'm fine with it. Really, I can read about dying…"

"No, that's not it. Just…" Johanna began.

"Go on," Cinna prodded.

"Fine," Johanna said. She took a deep breath and read the next two sentences.

_And it's not me. It's Primrose Everdeen._

You could've heard a pin drop.

…

**I'm going to try to make the next chapter contain all of chapter two, so keep that in mind while waiting for an update. It took me 4 chapters just to get through one of Suzanne Collin's, so it could take me a month or so to write. However, I think it'll be worth it.**

**Quote of the day!**

"_Of course, we knew exactly what to name a platypus: Bartholomew! And then we got home and renamed him Perry." _–Phineas and Ferb: Across the 2nd Dimension

**May the odds be ever in your favor,**

**Spectrobes Princess**


	6. Interlude

3/26/15

**I am a horrible human being.**

**I'm serious. How have I put off updating for this long? I feel like a really crappy excuse for a human being, please forgive me. I'll try to update more in the future. I promise I haven't abandoned this story, and never will no matter how much I've considered it. I promised myself I wouldn't, and typically my promises go unbroken if there's anything I can do about it. **

**If you're wondering why this chapter is so short, it's because it's only an interlude. I deleted the old one because it sucked, and I figured that the story needed another. That, and I didn't have time to type up a full chapter and I really wanted to give you guys another update. Sorry if this sucks, I literally just wrote it in like, 20 minutes. In other words, it's hot-off-the-press just like my old fanfics were. Don't worry, I still checked it for errors. Also, I'm adding a new character to the group even though it really doesn't need another one. Mostly because I finished writing my story with Tigris in it, and I'm starting to miss writing about her.**

**(if you don't remember Tigris, she was a former stylist that helped Katniss and the rest of Squad 451 when they were in the Capitol. It's kinda my Headcannon that she's from District 4 and Finnick's mother is her older sister, if that makes any sense.)**

**Thank you seemaree for following and favoriting, QueenOfHearts143 for following, sarge20 for following and favoriting, Dark Punxysaur for following and favoriting, maggiedc89 for favoriting, squeaks00 for following, Fan of HPTMIBCandPJ1 for favoriting, Slytherin Silvertongue for following, sperosvengence for favoriting, Night Hunter533 for following, Dream and Hope for following, IcePhoenix12360 for following, dawnlilypotter for following and favoriting, Birdie22 for following, Disgaea princess for favoriting, Miss Manna for following, lilywhitesw for following, LucediDio for following and favoriting, N3ss13 for following, Ithinkimgonnacry for following, fangirl00114 for favoriting, GallifreyFallsNoMore for favoriting, KAKiR for following and favoriting, TheBlackAndRedSpirit for following, paramorerox813 for following, MonkeysAreTheBest for following, Lady Luna Hale for favoriting, annieduncan17 for favoriting, Besoin for following, Andromeda StarK for following, Jess2708 for following, HannokiKaen for favoriting, Ravnur for following, Hinata001 for following and favoriting, Rebekah Mikaelson89 for following and favoriting, wonkrevenllouy for following and favoriting, and LadyLL for favoriting **

**Reviews:**

**Seemaree: Thanks! And yes, I think I might skip some of the filler passages (well, unless there's something snarky Marvel can say)**

**Annabeth-TheTributeThatLived: Oh no! Well, since I died laughing too, I guess that makes me a ghost too. What if we're all ghosts? (this is proof that I'm running low on sleep. My apologies)**

**Thebestbooks: Sorry, this wasn't very "soon", but hopefully the next one will be!**

**PixelArtyGirl1: Sorry that we won't pick back up on the cliffhanger this chapter. But next chapter we will. I promise.**

**Fandomhope: Okay :)**

**BecksTheDivergent: I just want to get a giant paper shredder and put President Snow in it. Is that legal? I don't think so. But he IS a fictional character, so even if it **_**was **_**legal I wouldn't be able to do it…**

**Thescout12: Sure, I'll consider doing Prim's POV next chapter**

**Annieduncan17: I'll try :)**

**Gabby Delacour: Well… now it's been 3 months, I guess. Whoops. But thanks for reminding me**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or anything else I may mention**_

…

Chapter 6: Interlude

TIGRIS'S POV

Today time stopped.

Or maybe it was yesterday. Like I said, time stopped. So, that means that there isn't really a concept of time right now, so would that mean that even if it was 24 hours it wouldn't have been 24 hours?

Obviously I need sleep… therapy wouldn't hurt either.

Since time has stopped, for everyone but me apparently, the store has been empty. By empty, I don't mean your normal, everyday empty. This isn't a case of "oh no, there haven't been any customers today, whatever will I do". It's more of "there isn't even a little breeze in this deadbeat store and the only thing I can do at this point is blame people". Of course, blaming people is one of my favorite pastimes, so that's not much of a problem. Or it wouldn't be, if I hadn't already made up my mind that this is President Snow's doing. Why he would do something like this is beyond me, because it's stupid even for him.

Again, I need sleep and therapy.

For the past half hour or so (again, no concept of time) I've been pacing around the store contemplating the meaning of life. But that's getting boring. Fast. Maybe it's up to me to unfreeze time, save the world, and all that jazz. Or maybe this is just a new method of torture that someone thought needed to be tested out on an ex-stylist.

As if taking away my job and putting me in charge of a fur-themed underwear store instead wasn't enough.

Suddenly, I'm aware that someone is watching me. I don't want to instantly spin around, because that would alert them that I know they're there. If this is an enemy, my best bet would be to use my brain instead of brawn. So instead of fighting, I try to ignore it.

"Tigris!"

Until it calls my name. Drat.

I admit defeat and slowly turn around, only to discover a woman standing in the doorway of my shop. Huh, that's strange.

"Who are you," I snarl cautiously.

"I'm sorry for startling you. My name is Suzanne Collins. I'm from another dimension."

"SURE you are! And District 12 is gonna win this year!" I say sarcastically. "Why are you here?"

Suzanne frowns. "I'm here to take you to the others who have been spared from the time-freeze."

"But… why?"

"I'll explain it on the way," Suzanne says. "Now, are you coming or are you going to stand there like an idiot?"

I frown and look around the shop, trying to stall for time. How do I know I can trust her?

"Tigris… this is a chance to make your life better."

This still doesn't convince me, so she adds, "Your nephew is there too."

My eyes must brighten at the mention of Finnick, because she laughs. My mind has been made for me.

"Let's leave. Now," I say determinedly.

…**..**

**So… I'll try to have the next chapter up by the beginning of May, and hopefully it'll be all of Chapter 2 this time instead of just a fragment of a chapter. It might take a little longer to do that, so I'm gonna need some time. But still, I promise I'll get it posted faster than I did this pathetic excuse for a chapter.**

**Anyways, have a quote of the day!**

_*after being told someone wants to clone him* "Pass, Batcave's crowded enough." _–Young Justice, Robin

**May the odds be ever in your favor,**

**Spectrobes Princess**


	7. Chapter 2 -at last!-

5/7/15

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, Spongebob (yeah, you'll see what that has to do with anything), or anything else I may mention_

**Hi again! Sorry that it took longer than I thought it would. Me and my sister (who beta's all of my stories) were working out a new strategy for beta-reading, and we just figured it out today. I was just having her read it on my computer and point things out to me, but that required both of us being on the computer at the same time, and neither of us doing anything else at the moment. Now we've started emailing chapters to each other and highlighting text, which I think works better. I dunno, we're still testing the waters with it.**

**Thank you Josephm611 for following and favoriting, Twistedfeather for following, devildesire for favoriting, JoshEm for following and favoriting, DomiStephens for following and favoriting, MsHotSexy for following, TitleGirl79 for following, twilightobsession20 for favoriting, Stromae for following, FireCrystal1092 for favoriting, miriam207fangirling for following, Ororo15 for following, leonascott35 for following, OWLOFDASEA for following, NotYourNormalFangirl for following and favoriting, Jbana23 for favoriting, and Misumi Hyuuga for favoriting.**

**Reviews:**

**Josephm611: Thanks! And don't worry about this story getting abandoned. I've only abandoned one story worth mentioning, and even then I promised a rewrite- which I'm currently working on. So yeah, no abandoning stories for me.**

**Gabby Delacour: The chapter would've been longer, but I didn't have the energy to write anything other than an interlude. Lol, yeah, that statement was also referring to me as I was writing because I was mostly running on sugar at the moment.**

**TitleGirl79: Thanks! I really tried to think about who I was putting in and who I wasn't. I was going to put in Katniss's mother too, but I decided against it because she doesn't have a cannon name (although I went ahead and put Finch/Foxface in there, and I always could've used Paula, the name me and my sister use for her).**

**TheEmeraldQueen: Yes, time stopping has to do with who is there and who isn't. I'll probably introduce some more later, like Thread or the Morphlings, maybe. Or I could always toss in an OC (well… nah. That never goes over well with the readers of other stories I've seen). Thanks!**

**Afsanabegum19: Sorry for the wait. I'll try to get the updates done faster. I really do love writing this story, but for some reason it usually leaves me feeling drained so I try not to do too much on this one if you know what I mean. The same could be said for my other Hunger Games story recently, but I don't know why. **

**Domi: Okay :)**

**Cghhgc: Oh, yeah. Thanks for reminding me (lol)**

**On with the story!**

…

Reading The Hunger Games: Chapter 7: Bread Boy

(Chapter 2)

Prim felt as though the air was being sucked out of her lungs. She couldn't breathe. She was District 12's next tribute. It felt surreal to her, being destined to die. She tried to focus on her breathing, but she couldn't. Why should she, if she was going to die?

"Prim? Are you okay sweetie?" Cecelia asked gently, although Prim barely heard it.

"Excuse me for a moment," Prim whispered before running off.

"Prim, wait!" she heard her sister yell. But she was faster than Katniss, whether or not the older girl was willing to admit it.

She ran down the hallway and up the stairs. Prim opened the door to the secret room that she and Rue discovered earlier, when President Snow passed out. She walked in and shut the door behind her.

"Prim! Prim, where are you?!" Katniss yelled.

Prim sat with her back to the door and curled up, pressing her knees to her chest. Tears fell from her eyes, dripping slowly on her golden hair. She ignored Katniss's pleas and tried to quiet her sobs of despair.

The sound of Katniss's footsteps thudded outside of the door, but they abruptly stopped, as if she realized exactly where her little sister was. Katniss gave Prim a few more minutes to cry before knocking on the door.

"Prim? I know you're in here."

Prim sniffled, wiping her eyes on the bottom of her shirt. Wordlessly, she stood up and opened the door. Without a second thought, she wrapped her arms around her sister and continued sobbing. She felt Katniss return the hug, and buried her face in the older girl's shoulder. It took her a minute, but she soon realized that Katniss was crying too.

"It's okay Katniss," she said between her own tears. "Nothing's happened yet. President Snow could still stop the Games. That's why the woman brought us here, right?"

Katniss tearfully smiled in an attempt to calm Prim, but she knew that there was no way that President Snow would call off the Games. Life just doesn't work like that.

"There you two are!" Cecelia said. Prim turned around and saw the victor approaching them, a slightly more cheerful grin on her face. "We've been looking for you. Come on, we have a new… other person trapped here, I guess."

Prim wiped away her tears and followed Cecelia down the stairs. Katniss lingered for a moment, wishing she could just have a minute to herself like Prim did, but she soon followed them.

When Prim re-entered the room, she spotted the newcomer almost instantly. Sure, there were a few normal things about her, such as her dirty blonde hair and gleaming tawny eyes, but other than that it was obvious she came from the Capitol. Her skin was tattooed to look like the skin of a tiger, and her face was surgically altered to include whiskers. She even had a tail. Prim tried not to stare.

"Katniss, Prim, this is Tigris. Tigris, this is Katniss and Prim," Finnick said.

Tigris, who had added a seat to the circle between Johanna and Finnick, quickly recognized the names. "Oh, like in the book! Yeah, they were just telling me what happened. Sucks to be you guys, right? …Sorry, I can be a little insensitive sometimes. I'm sorry for the loss of the freedom you didn't know you had. There, is that better?"

Katniss was at loss for words. Prim could only whisper, "Your stripes are pretty."

Tigris flashed a crooked smile at the 12 year old. "Thank you."

"Alright, the sooner we can get through the books, the sooner we can leave!" said Effie, who was obviously unnerved at the ex-stylist's appearance. "Why doesn't… _Marvel _read the book!"

"Aww, I'm flattered," Marvel smirked.

"Please, for the love of all things holy, keep your comments to a minimum," Finch groaned.

Prim laughed and took her seat, gesturing for Katniss to sit down. Reluctantly, she reclaimed her seat, but continued to look at her sister over Peeta's shoulder.

"We can trade seats. That is, um, you know, if you want to," Peeta said awkwardly.

"No, you're fine," Katniss sighed. "Just read, Marvel."

Marvel looked at Prim. "Are you sure you can handle this?"

Prim nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "It's not like these books could really tell the truth, right?"

"Okay, but if you need to take a break, just let us know," Glimmer said, handing the book to Marvel.

Without another word on the subject, Marvel found the beginning of chapter 2 and began reading.

_One time, when I was in a blind in a tree, waiting motionless for game to wander by, I dozed off and fell ten feet to the ground, landing on my back. It was as if the impact had knocked every wisp of air from my lungs, and I lay there struggling to inhale, to exhale, to do anything._

"Maybe this is just a collection of short-stories or something?" Tigris suggested hopefully. She wasn't really fond of hearing about a 12 year old girl entering the Hunger Games from the perspective of her older sister. She knew that it would only remind her of the two tributes she had as her time as a stylist.

"I doubt it, I mean, it's called _The Hunger Games_, isn't it? Wouldn't it make more sense to call it _The Hunger Games and Other Crappy Short Stories _if it was?" Clove pointed out.

_That's how I feel now, trying to remember how to breathe, unable to speak, totally stunned as the name bounces around the inside of my skull. _

"I'm pretty sure Clove's right," Thresh agreed.

"Right," Tigris said in a disappointed tone.

_Someone is gripping my arm, a boy from the Seam, and I think maybe I started to fall and he caught me. There must have been some mistake. This can't be happening. Prim was one slip of paper in thousands! Her chances of being chosen so remote that I'd not even bothered to worry about her. Hadn't I done everything? Taken the tesserae, refused to let her do the same? One slip. One slip in thousands. The odds had been entirely in her favor. But it hadn't mattered. _

"Well, considering that the odds are never in our favor and all that jazz, I don't know what you expected. Some random stranger to be picked? I mean, obviously you're a main character. Bad stuff's going to happen to you. Get freaking used to it," Johanna growled.

"Jo! Be nice!" Finnick snapped.

Johanna rolled her eyes.

"I'm not the one who's angsting every other second."

"Just drop it," Gloss said. "I'm sure you felt the same way when you're cousin got reaped."

Johanna sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Maple wasn't really my _cousin_. She was my deceased uncle's fiancé's niece."

"Same difference. Just… be nice, okay," Annie frowned.

"Easy for you to say," Johanna grumbled.

Marvel rolled his eyes. "Are we done here, or are we going to keep fighting?"

_Somewhere far away, I can hear the crowd murmuring unhappily as they always do when a twelve-year-old gets chosen because no one thinks this is fair. _

"Exactly. It isn't fair. None of this is!" Johanna snapped.

Plutarch looked at President Snow. "You're being quiet."

"This is punishment for your ancestors' participation in the Dark Days, Mason. It is perfectly fair and just," President Snow said, raising his voice.

"Exactly, my _ancestors' _participation. No one in this room… heck, no one in this gosh-darned _country_ was even alive back then!"

"Don't talk back to me! I'm the president! I could have you executed at any time!"

"Does the word "president" even mean anything anymore? At this rate, you're just a _tyrant_," Johanna growled.

Marvel tried to ignore Johanna's moodiness and kept reading.

_And then I see her, the blood drained from her face, hands clenched in fists at her sides, walking with stiff, small steps up toward the stage, passing me, and I see the back of her blouse has become untucked and hangs out over her skirt. It's this detail, the untucked blouse forming a ducktail, that brings me back to myself. _

"_Prim!" The strangled cry comes out of my throat, and my muscles begin to move again. "Prim!" I don't need to shove through the crowd. The other kids make way immediately allowing me a straight path to the stage. I reach her just as she is about to mount the steps. With one sweep of my arm, I push her behind me. "I volunteer!" I gasp. "I volunteer as tribute!"_

There were mixed reactions from across the room. The Careers and citizens were puzzled. Snow and Effie were thrilled. But the victors and remaining Capitolites were angry.

"Girl, you just signed your death certificate," Chaff wheezed.

Katniss couldn't believe it. Sure, she knew she'd do _anything _for Prim, but it was in that moment that she realized just how much _anything_ was.

"You're going to get yourself killed or worse! Why would you do something like that?" Cashmere scowled.

"I just wanted to save Prim," Katniss whispered.

"Katniss… you don't have to die for me," Prim said quietly. "I… I could've handled myself…."

Katniss smiled sadly. "No, little duck. I don't think you could've."

_There's some confusion on the stage. District 12 hasn't had a volunteer in decades and the protocol has become rusty. The rule is that once a tribute's name has been pulled from the ball, another eligible boy, if a boy's name has been read, or girl, if a girl's name has been read, can step forward to take his or her place. _

_In some districts, in which winning the reaping is such a great honor, people are eager to risk their lives, the volunteering is complicated. But in District 12, where the word tribute is pretty much synonymous with the word corpse, volunteers are all but extinct. _

"Honor my butt," Cato scoffed under his breath. "It's only an honor if you win."

"Even then," Enobaria quietly reminded him. "It's not that great, is it?"

Cato shrugged at his future mentor before paying attention to the story.

"_Lovely!" says Effie Trinket. "But I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth then we, um . . . " she trails off, unsure herself. _

"_What does it matter?" says the mayor. He's looking at me with a pained expression on his face. He doesn't know me really, but there's a faint recognition there. I am the girl who brings the strawberries. The girl his daughter might have spoken of on occasion. The girl who five years ago stood huddled with her mother and sister, as she huddled with her mother and sister, as he presented her, the oldest child, with a medal of valor. A medal for her father, vaporized in the mines. Does he remember that? _

"I think it would be kind of impossible to forget something like that," Effie laughed.

Everyone glared.

"_What does it matter?" he repeats gruffly. "Let her come forward." _

_Prim is screaming hysterically behind me. She's wrapped her skinny arms around me like a vice. "No, Katniss! No! You can't go!" _

"_Prim, let go," I say harshly, because this is upsetting me and I don't want to cry. When they televise the replay of the reapings tonight, everyone will make note of my tears, and I'll be marked as an easy target. A weakling. I will give no one that satisfaction. _

"That might have worked to your advantage," Beetee said. "As Johanna has shown, the weaklings are often targeted last. So if you pretended to be a weakling, you would have more time before the Careers came after you."

Katniss nodded her head.

"Hey, he's right you know. At the Academy, we're taught to go after the tributes who are bigger threats first, that way they can't hurt us before we can hurt them," Clove pointed out.

"_Let go!" I can feel someone pulling her from my back. I turn and see Gale has lifted Prim off the ground and she's thrashing in his arms. "Up you go, Catnip," he says, in a voice he's fighting to keep steady, and then he carries Prim off toward my mother._

"Child predator!" Marvel interrupted in a gasp.

Gale glared at him. Glimmer only rolled her eyes.

"Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood."

_I steel myself and climb the steps. "Well, bravo!" gushes Effie Trinket. "That's the spirit of the Games!" _

"Ah yes, the Games. Where children murder each other left and right. Quickly, we must get into the spirit!" Chaff laughed.

_She's pleased to finally have a district with a little action going on in it. _

"So you're happy that a young girl just volunteered to possibly _die_?" Finch said, wrinkling her nose.

"I'm _happy_ that District 12 is finally coming to its senses. We may even have a new Career district soon!" Effie said proudly.

"_Suuure_, if that's what you _want _to believe," Annie mumbled.

"_What's your name?" _

_I swallow hard. "Katniss Everdeen," I say. _

"_I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we? _

"Deaaath! Glorious Deaaath!" Marvel sang.

"Well, I'm sure you're not being as obnoxious as you _could_ be," Brutus sighed.

_Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!" trills Effie Trinket. To the everlasting credit of the people of District 12, not one person claps. Not even the ones holding betting slips, the ones who are usually beyond caring. _

"Is District 12 usually this suicidal?" Glimmer asked.

"Only on Thursdays," Peeta joked dryly.

_Possibly because they know me from the Hob, or knew my father, or have encountered Prim, who no one can help loving. So instead of acknowledging applause, I stand there unmoving while they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage. Silence. Which says we do not agree. We do not condone. All of this is wrong. Then something unexpected happens. _

"Peacekeepers start shooting at the civilians? Because that would be the likely thing to happen here," Cecelia said with a frown.

_At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me. But a shift has occurred since I stepped up to take Prim's place, and now it seems I have become someone precious. At first one, then another, then almost every member of the crowd touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and holds it out to me._

"Wait, what was that about the middle finger?"

_It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love. Now I am truly in danger of crying, but fortunately Haymitch chooses this time to come staggering across the stage to congratulate me. _

"Oh no."

"Seriously?"

"Really Haymitch?"

"What the heck are you going to do this time?"

"I'm afraid to find out."

"Aww, I didn't know you guys care," Haymitch said, smirking at the other victors' distress.

"_Look at her. Look at this one!" he hollers, throwing an arm around my shoulders. He's surprisingly strong for such a wreck. _

"Well, wreck is one way to put it," Effie huffed.

"I kind of have to agree with you, for once," Cashmere sighed.

"_I like her!" His breath reeks of liquor and it's been a long time since he's bathed. "Lots of . . . " He can't think of the word for a while. "Spunk!" he says triumphantly. "More than you!" he releases me and starts for the front of the stage. "More than you!" he shouts, pointing directly into a camera. Is he addressing the audience or is he so drunk he might actually be taunting the Capitol? I'll never know because just as he's opening his mouth to continue, Haymitch plummets off the stage and knocks himself unconscious. _

Cashmere and Effie bursted into laughter, and the others followed. Haymitch even seemed slightly proud of himself. The only ones who weren't laughing were Peeta, Beetee, and Prim, but they did seem slightly amused.

"Alright, I'd like to thank all my haters for making this moment possible. I love every one of you," Haymitch said sarcastically.

_He's disgusting, but I'm grateful. With every camera gleefully trained on him, I have just enough time to release the small, choked sound in my throat and compose myself. I put my hands behind my back and stare into the distance. I can see the hills I climbed this morning with Gale. For a moment, I yearn for something . . . the idea of us leaving the district . . . making our way in the woods . . . but I know I was right about not running off. Because who else would have volunteered for Prim? Haymitch is whisked away on a stretcher, and Effie Trinket is trying to get the ball rolling again. "What an exciting day!" she warbles _

Marvel snickered. "Warbles. That's a funny word. I warble. You warble. He, she, we warble. Warble-ology, the study of warble…"

"Okay then," Rue said, taking the book from him. "I think I should read now."

"What? Aww, but I was just getting started," Marvel whined.

"Get over it," Clove said, rolling her eyes.

_as she attempts to straighten her wig, which has listed severely to the right. _

"_But more excitement to come!_

"Where exactly…" Wiress trailed off, unable to find the right words.

"Would this be considered excitement?" Beetee finished. Wiress smiled at him gratefully.

_It's time to choose our boy tribute!" Clearly hoping to contain her tenuous hair situation, she plants one hand on her head as she crosses to the ball that contains the boys' names and grabs the first slip she encounters. She zips back to the podium, and I don't even have time to wish for Gale's safety when she's reading the name. _

"Gale Hawthorne!" Everyone guessed at once.

"_Peeta Mellark."_

"What?" Peeta asked with wide eyes.

"Oh. We were wrong. Horribly wrong," Finnick said.

"That's too bad," Glimmer sighed. "Obviously only one of you can win. Both of you are pretty nice. I don't know who…"

"Are you suggesting that I'm_ not _nice?" Gale asked.

"Well…" Glimmer laughed nervously. "What! No, I never said anything like that?"

_Peeta Mellark! Oh, no, I think. Not him. _

"Why, are you a serial killer or something?" Rue teased.

"Not that I know of," Peeta said.

_Because I recognize this name, although I have never spoken directly to its owner. Peeta Mellark. No, the odds are not in my favor today. I watch him as he makes his way toward the stage. Medium height, stocky build, ashy blond hair that falls in waves over his forehead. The shock of the moment is registering on his face, you can see his struggle to remain emotionless, but his blue eyes show the alarm I've seen so often in prey. _

"Your new name is "prey boy" now. Is that okay, prey boy?" Johanna smirked.

"Um, well…"

"Don't worry about it, she gives nicknames to everyone because…" Gloss began.

"Hey, lip balm! Did I say you could talk about it?" Johanna snapped.

Gloss rolled his eyes.

"Thought not."

_Yet he climbs steadily onto the stage and takes his place. Effie Trinket asks for volunteers, but no one steps forward. He has two older brothers, I know, I've seen them in the bakery, but one is probably too old now to volunteer and the other won't. This is standard. Family devotion only goes so far for most people on reaping day. What I did was the radical thing. The mayor begins to read the long, dull Treaty of Treason as he does every year at this point — it's required — but I'm not listening to a word. _

"Okay, but really? Who does?" Finch asked.

"In District 4, we have to memorize the thing in 10th grade," Annie said quietly.

"That sounds like torture," Cato groaned.

"Yeah, good thing I stopped going to school after I won the Games," Finnick bragged.

_Why him? I think. Then I try to convince myself it doesn't matter. Peeta Mellark and I are not friends. Not even neighbors. We don't speak. _

"So… a weird acquaintance from school or something?"

"It's complicated," Katniss blushed. She thought she knew where this was going, and she didn't like the way it sounded at all. She never wanted Peeta to hear what she thought about the bread.

_Our only real interaction happened years ago. He's probably forgotten it. But I haven't and I know I never will. . . . _

Rue skimmed the page. "Okay, there's a flashback and it's pretty long. Is this really necessary?"

"No," Katniss said, trying not to sound too desperate.

"Well, don't we need to read it and see what happened?" Cecelia asked.

"Yeah, but… it's an invasion of privacy," Rue frowned.

"Here, I can take a turn if you're not comfortable with that," Finch said.

Rue nodded and walked across the room to hand her the book.

"Okay, let's see… where did we leave off… okay, here it is!"

_It was during the worst time. My father had been killed in the mine accident three months earlier in the bitterest January anyone could remember. The numbness of his loss had passed, and the pain would hit me out of nowhere, doubling me over, racking my body with sobs. Where are you? I would cry out in my mind. Where have you gone? Of course, there was never any answer. _

"Well, that's not depressing," Enobaria scoffed.

"Give her a break, Baria. Her dad died, and she was young," Brutus reminded her.

_The district had given us a small amount of money as compensation for his death, enough to cover one month of grieving at which time my mother would be expected to get a job. Only she didn't. She didn't do anything but sit propped up in a chair or, more often, huddled under the blankets on her bed, eyes fixed on some point in the distance. Once in a while, she'd stir, get up as if moved by some urgent purpose, only to then collapse back into stillness. No amount of pleading from Prim seemed to affect her. I was terrified. I suppose now that my mother was locked in some dark world of sadness, but at the time, all I knew was that I had lost not only a father, but a mother as well. At eleven years old, with Prim just seven, I took over as head of the family. _

"What a jerk. That was supposed to be _her_ responsibility," Annie frowned. "Sorry, I guess she still is your mom, but still. That doesn't excuse her behavior."

"It's okay," Katniss sighed.

_There was no choice. I bought our food at the market and cooked it as best I could and tried to keep Prim and myself looking presentable. Because if it had become known that my mother could no longer care for us, the district would have taken us away from her and placed us in the community home. I'd grown up seeing those home kids at school. The sadness, the marks of angry hands on their faces, the hopelessness that curled their shoulders forward. I could never let that happen to Prim. Sweet, tiny Prim who cried when I cried before she even knew the reason, who brushed and plaited my mother's hair before we left for school, who still polished my father's shaving mirror each night because he'd hated the layer of coal dust that settled on everything in the Seam. The community home would crush her like a bug. So I kept our predicament a secret. _

"That was smart," Gloss said. "But I think sooner or later it would've been better for all of you if you went there."

"Yeah, we had to go to the one in District 1 for a few months when we were younger, until our mother could get herself under control," Cashmere said with a frown. "It wasn't exactly the greatest place I've been, but it was far from as horrible as it seemed."

"Not in District 12," Gale sighed. "Here, everything is as bad as it seems."

Cashmere's frown deepened. "Sorry. I wish there was something that could be done about that."

_But the money ran out and we were slowly starving to death. There's no other way to put it. I kept telling myself if I could only hold out until May, just May 8th, I would turn twelve and be able to sign up for the tesserae and get that precious grain and oil to feed us. Only there were still several weeks to go. We could well be dead by then. Starvation's not an uncommon fate in District 12. Who hasn't seen the victims? Older people who can't work. Children from a family with too many to feed. Those injured in the mines. Straggling through the streets. And one day, you come upon them sitting motionless against a wall or lying in the Meadow, you hear the wails from a house, and the Peacekeepers are called in to retrieve the body. Starvation is never the cause of death officially. It's always the flu, or exposure, or pneumonia. But that fools no one. _

"Why not tell it like it is?" Johanna huffed. "Oh wait, I know exactly why! Political agenda! As always!"

President Snow scowled. "Miss Mason, do I have to give you the same treatment as your family?"

Johanna shot him a glare. "Just get on with it Finch. I want to go home. I miss Blight and Pine."

_On the afternoon of my encounter with Peeta Mellark, the rain was falling in relentless icy sheets. I had been in town, trying to trade some threadbare old baby clothes of Prim's in the public market, but there were no takers. Although I had been to the Hob on several occasions with my father, I was too frightened to venture into that rough, gritty place alone. _

"Considering that you seem to go there on a daily basis now, I guess that changed," Plutarch said in what was supposed to be an encouraging tone.

"Y-yeah," Katniss stuttered.

Suddenly, Peeta realized what this story was about. "This is about the bread, isn't it?"

Katniss nodded her head, and forced herself to speak. "I never thanked you for that, did I?"

Peeta smiled. "Katniss, there's no need to thank me, okay? I was just in the right place at the right time."

"Oh… okay," Katniss sighed.

The rest of the chapter went by uneventfully. Marvel and Chaff butted in as usual, Annie scowled at Peeta's mother's cruelty, Johanna jokingly changed Peeta's nickname to "bread boy", and Finch gave the book to Tigris among other things. But Katniss could only think about how relieved she was that she had finally thanked Peeta. She didn't know why, but for some reason that seemed to lift the burden of knowing her future.

…

**Yeah, I would've finished the chapter but then I realized that it's mostly filler and I needed to hurry up and get this crap posted. That, and it's already pretty long. I dunno, I just like shorter chapters better than long ones. That way you can read it in one sitting.**

**School's almost out! That's a good thing, right? I'm going to be sooo happy when I don't have to worry about schoolwork anymore (until August, at least). Like, you have no idea. The homeschool curriculum we use is really big on essays, so I could barely write for a month and a half. Seriously, I've used up most of my pre-written updates for my other posted story. I just have Sunday's left right now. I really should start on next week's update.**

**Speaking of updates, I'll try to get the next chapter up before my birthday (June 14). The day after that I leave for church camp (yay!) and I'll be gone for like, 5 days. **

**Also, Ace Day is tomorrow! Is there anyone else here participating? I've already got my Tumblr post queued because I don't know if I'll have any time on the computer tomorrow. I have to babysit and stuff.**

**Sorry for rambling, I just feel talkative tonight.**

**Quote of the day!**

_*sees an explosion* "It's a giant mushroom! Maybe it's friendly!"_ –Avatar, Sokka

**May the odds be ever in your favor,**

**Spectrobes Princess**


	8. Chapter 3: Part 1

12/24/15

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or anything else I may mention. _

**Merry Christmas! **

**(at this point I'm just going to casually ignore the fact that I haven't updated since May)**

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**(sorry for any typos, my email is acting up and I don't have much time to get this posted before I go to my great grandma's house for Christmas Eve) :)**

**Review Responses:**

**Josephm611- Thanks! Blight and Seeder will probably come in later, since I'm rather fond of both of them. I might include the District 3 boy too if writers block requires it.**

**TheBlackAndRedSpirit- Yeah, I see how that could be confusing ;)**

**Aubrey Cortez- The victors**_** are **_**pretty bold about how they feel. Thanks!**

**Annabeth-TheTributeThatLived- Thanks! Sorry it took so long to update though.**

**TheEmeraldQueen- Thank you :)**

**Thebestbook- Here you go :)**

**Afsanabegum19- Yep, her birthday was mentioned somewhere in the first book. It's supposedly the same day Joan of Arc was born too, if I remember correctly.**

**Guest: Highly considering it :)**

**Kakima54: Thanks! Good luck with your job! :)**

**Guest: Actually, the camp I go to is called Crossings (don't remember why though). It's fantastic! Sorry I couldn't update earlier! I tried, I really did.**

**SibunaMockingjay: Trust me, I know the feeling. It's a miracle I don't mix them up either! **

**Kagome Higurashi- Thanks! Here's the next update! :)**

**Shiranai Atsune- Yeah, I hope to write to the end of the trilogy. It may take me forty years at this rate, but I'm trying :)**

**Again, sorry if I missed anyone. On with the story!**

…**..**

Reading The Hunger Games

Chapter 8: Chapter 3 part 1

The air in the room seemed different now. It felt gloomy and dark, and no one was joking around anymore. In fact, Katniss seemed to be the only one who wasn't depressed out of her mind, which was odd considering the fact that she was the one sentenced to die. She seemed peaceful even, as if her mind was somewhere else entirely.

Cashmere had always been attentive to such details. Nothing escaped her watchful eyes, not even when it was in regards to the girl who was usually so closed off and guarded. Cash suspected that it must've been because of Peeta. Now that she acknowledged the event that tied their pasts together, it almost seemed as though there was a weight lifted off of her shoulders. It was an awkward thing to witness, really, but the victor minded a lot less than she normally would have in such a situation. Yes, the room's atmosphere was unusual because of it, but this situation was already pretty unusual as it was.

Her eyes trailed to Peeta, who was fidgeting in his seat slightly as Tigris finished up the second chapter. Perhaps it was because of Katniss's suspicions of him, she reasoned. Even someone who was less attentive than Cashmere could tell that Peeta had a massive crush on the dark haired girl. He'd even admitted it to her and Johanna during the break they took after The President passed out, even though he didn't really need to. He was so obvious. Why couldn't he just woman up and admit his feelings to Katniss? Things would be so much simpler then, even if they DID have to fight to the death in the future.

"Something on your mind?" Gloss whispered.

Cashmere shrugged, pushing a blonde curl out of her eyes. She wished that she had something to tie her hair back with. During the break she had originally intended to search around the house for something, but she somehow ended up talking to Johanna and Peeta instead. Part of her wanted to regret the choice, but the rest of her wasn't so petty.

"Operation Cupid," she whispered, tucking her hair behind her ears.

Gloss nodded his head, fully used to his twin's antics at this point. Sure, he knew that her little match making plan would probably fail, as it did a few years ago when he had admitted to her that he had a crush on Johanna, but who was he to deny her the game?

Cashmere turned her attention back to the group, who was discussing who should read next. Some, such as Peeta and Annie, didn't want to keep prying into Katniss's personal thoughts despite Katniss's insistence that it was fine (she was clearly lying- Cashmere suspected it was out of a sense of duty to get them out of there). Johanna and Clove REALLY didn't want Marvel to read next. Others, namely Effie and Chaff, cared less who would read next- they just wanted someone to read so they could get out of there as soon as possible. All in all, no one was offering to do it. Well, except for Marvel, but Cashmere had to agree with Clove on this one. Marvel was occasionally funny, but he was starting to get annoying.

After a moment of hesitance, Cashmere stood up and cleared her throat, cutting Finch off mid-sentence. Everyone turned their heads to look at her, and suddenly she was filled with a small amount of stage fright. She managed to put it aside as she announced, "I can read it."

"Go for it," Tigris said, holding out the book. Cashmere took it from her and sat back down, flipping open the book to the page marked Chapter 3.

_The moment the anthem ends, we are taken into custody. I don't mean we're handcuffed or anything, but a group of Peacekeepers marches us through the front door of the Justice Building. Maybe tributes have tried to escape in the past. I've never seen that happen though._

Brutus pointed to Enobaria. "She wasn't even reaped. She _volunteered_."

"Oh shut up," Enobaria said, rolling her eyes.

_Once inside, I'm conducted to a room and left alone. It's the richest place I've ever been in, with thick, deep carpets and a velvet couch and chairs. I know velvet because my mother has a dress with a collar made of the stuff. When I sit on the couch, I can't help running my fingers over the fabric repeatedly. It helps to calm me as I try to prepare for the next hour. The time allotted for the tributes to say goodbye to the loved ones. I cannot afford to get upset, to leave this room with puffy eyes and a red nose. Crying is not an option. There will be more cameras at the train station._

"That's pretty smart," Finnick said. "First impressions can be the difference between life and death. However, crying could be useful if you wanted to play up the image of the girl who loved her sister enough to die for her. If you weren't a hunter, the sympathy card would've been a good option for you."

"If she was a law abiding citizen you mean," President Snow said with a glare. "Miss Everdeen, those rules are in place for a reason-"

"Yeah, so they can be broken," Cashmere grumbled. President Snow tried to speak again, but she interrupted him by continuing reading.

_My sister and my mother come first. I reach out to Prim and she climbs on my lap, her arms around my neck, head on my shoulder, just like she did when she was a toddler. My mother sits beside me and wraps her arms around us. For a few minutes, we say nothing. Then I start telling them all the things they must remember to do, now that I will not be there to do them for them._

_Prim is not to take any tesserae. They can get by, if they're careful, on selling Prim's goat milk and cheese and the small apothecary business my mother now runs for the people in the Seam. Gale will get her the herbs she doesn't grow herself, but she must be very careful to describe them because he's not as familiar with them as I am. He'll also bring them game- he and I made a pact about this a year or so ago- and will probably not ask for compensation, but they should thank him with some kind of trade, like milk or medicine. _

"You don't have to," said Gale, who had barely said anything since Katniss volunteered.

"It's the least we can do," Katniss merely shrugged.

_I don't bother suggesting Prim learn to hunt. I tried to teach her a couple of times and it was disastrous. The woods terrified her, and whenever I shot something, she'd get teary and talk about how we might be able to heal it if we got it home soon enough. But she makes out well with her goat, so I concentrate on that._

Cashmere noticed the mischievous twinkle in Marvel's eyes. She hurried to read the next paragraph before he could make a bestiality joke.

_When I am done with instructions about fuel, and trading, and staying in school, I turn to my mother and grip her arm, hard. "Listen to me. Are you listening to me?" She nods, alarmed by my intensity. She must know what's coming. "You can't leave again," I say._

_My mother's eyes find the floor. "I know, I won't. I couldn't help what-"_

"_Well, you have to help it this time. You can't clock out and leave Prim on her own. There's no me now to keep you both alive. It doesn't matter what happens. Whatever you see on the screen. You have to promise me you'll fight through it!" My voice has risen to a shout. In it is all the anger, all the fear I felt at her abandonment._

_She pulls her arm from my grasp, moved to anger herself now. "I was ill. I could have treated myself if I'd had the medicine I have now."_

_That part about her being ill might be true. I've seen her bring back people suffering from immobilizing sadness since. Perhaps it is a sickness, but it's one we can't afford._

"_Then take it. And take care of her!" I say._

"_I'll be all right, Katniss," says Prim, clasping my face in her hands. "But you have to take care, too. You're so fast and brave. Maybe you can win."_

_I can't win. Prim must know that in her heart. The competition will be far beyond my abilities. Kids from wealthier district, where winning is a huge honor, who've been trained their whole lives for this. Boys who are two to three times my size. Girls who know twenty different ways to kill you with a knife. _

"Twenty _five_," Clove corrected.

"Yeah, you're not helping," Brutus sighed.

_Oh, there'll be people like me, too. People to weed out before the real fun begins._

"_Maybe," I say, because I can hardly tell my mother to carry on if I've already given up myself. Besides, it isn't in my nature to go down without a fight, even when things seem insurmountable. "Then we'd be rich as Haymitch."_

"_I don't care if we're rich. I just want you to come home. You will try, won't you? Really, really try?" asks Prim._

"_Really, really try. I swear it," I say. And I know, because of Prim, I'll have to._

Cashmere nodded, pausing for a moment to look at the potential newest victor. Sorrow pierced at her heart. In the training districts, they were at the very least taught how to cope with victory. Being from an outlying district, Katniss probably wouldn't be able to handle the PTSD, especially if Haymitch remained in the rotten state he was in. In fact, the lack of training was probably one of the reasons Haymitch was an alcoholic in the first place.

_And then the Peacekeeper is at the door, signaling our time is up, and we're all hugging one another so hard it hurts and all I'm saying is "I love you. I love you both." And they're saying it back and then the Peacekeeper orders them out and the door closes. I bury my head in one of the velvet pillows as if this can block the whole thing out._

_Someone else enters the room, and when I look up, I'm surprised to see it's the baker, Peeta Mellark's father. I can't believe he's coming to visit me. After all, I'll be trying to kill his son soon. But we do know each other a bit, and he knows Prim even better. When she sells her goat cheeses at the Hob, she puts two of them aside for him and he gives her a generous amount of bread in return. We always wait to trade with him when his witch of a wife isn't around because he's so much nicer. I feel certain he would never have hit his son the way she did over the burned bread. But why has he come to see me?_

_The baker sits awkwardly on the edge of one of the plush chairs. He's a big, broad shouldered man with burn scars from years at the ovens. He must have just said goodbye to his son._

_He pulls a white paper package from his jacket pocket and holds it out to me. I open it and find cookies. These are a luxury we can never afford._

Cashmere noticed the tears pooling up in Peeta's eyes. What she didn't know was that giving cookies to the tributes was Peeta's tradition, and he was overjoyed that his father was continuing the tradition, even though he would soon be gone.

"_Thank you," I say. The baker's not a very talkative man in the best of times, and today he has no words at all. "I had some of your bread this morning. My friend Gale gave you a squirrel for it." He nods, as if remembering the squirrel. "Not your best trade," I say. He shrugs as if it couldn't possibly matter._

_Then I can't think of anything else, so we sit in silence until a Peacekeeper summons him. He rises and coughs to clear his throat. "I'll keep an eye on the little girl. Make sure she's eating."_

_I feel some of the pressure in my chest lighten at his words. People deal with me, but they are genuinely fond of Prim. Maybe there will be enough fondness to keep her alive._

_My next guest is also unexpected. Madge walks straight to me. She is not weepy or evasive, instead there's an urgency about her tone that surprises me. "They let you wear one thing from your district in the arena. One thing to remind you of home. Will you wear this?" She holds out the circular gold pin that was on her dress earlier. I hadn't paid much attention to it before, but now I see it's a small bird in flight._

"_Your pin?" I say. Wearing a token from my district is about the last thing on my mind._

"_Here, I'll put it on your dress, all right?" Madge doesn't wait for an answer, she just leans in and fixes the bird to my dress. "Promise you'll wear it into the arena, Katniss?" she asks. "Promise?"_

"Am I the only one who thinks that Madge is planning something?" Finch asked. Everyone looked at her in confusion. "No? Just me? Never mind."

"_Yes," I say. Cookies. A pin. I'm getting all kinds of gifts today. Madge gives me one more. A kiss on the cheek. Then she's gone and I'm left thinking that maybe Madge really has been my friend all along._

"And someone will fanfic this in five, four, three, two…."

_Finally, Gale is here and maybe there is nothing romantic between us_

The offended look on Gale's face was priceless.

_but when he opens his arms I don't hesitate to go into them. His body is familiar to me- the way it moves, the smell of wood smoke, even the sound of his heart beating I know from quiet moments on a hunt- but this is the first time I really feel it, lean and hard muscled against my own._

"_Listen," he says. "Getting a knife should be pretty easy, but you've got to get your hands on a bow. That's your best chance."_

"_They don't always have bows," I say, thinking of the year that there were only horrible spiked maces that the tributes had to bludgeon one another to death with._

"_Then make one," says Gale. "Even a weak bow is better than no bow at all."_

_I have tried copying my father's bows with poor results. It's not that easy. Even he had to scrap his own work sometimes._

"_I don't even know if there'll be wood," I say. Another year, they tossed everybody into a landscape of nothing but boulders and sand and scruffy bushes. I particularly hated that year. Many contestants were bitten by venomous snakes or went insane from thirst._

Gloss frowned. "Trust me, it was as bad as it sounds."

"That was your year?" Peeta asked.

"Yeah. I only won because the last contestant left died from dehydration before I could die from the snake's venom."

Cashmere went back to reading before her brother could relive any more painful memories.

"_There's almost always some wood," Gale says. "Since that year half of them died of cold. Not much entertainment in that."_

_It's true. We spent one Hunger Games watching the players freeze to death at night. You could hardly see them because they were just huddled in balls and had no wood for fires or torches or anything. It was considered very anticlimactic in the Capitol, all those quiet, bloodless deaths. Since then, there's usually been wood to make fires._

Cashmere bit her lip, but didn't say anything. Now it was her turn to relive the pain of her own Games. Her skin crawled, reminding her of the burning cold she had once faced. There weren't even tents or sleeping bags. Her victory (if you could even call it that) was just as anti-climactic as Gloss's. She had stayed behind to guard her alliance's supplies while they went to find and slaughter the last remaining alliance, since she was seen as the weakest member of that year's Careers. They were then buried in a snow storm along with the other alliance and the few tributes not group together, and Cashmere was the only one who didn't freeze to death since the Cornucopia provided at least a little shelter.

"_Yes, there's usually some," I say._

"_Katniss, it's just hunting. You're the best hunter I know," says Gale._

"_It's not just hunting. They're armed. They think," I say._

"_So do you. And you've had more practice. Real practice," he says. "You know how to kill."_

"_Not people," I say._

"_How different can it be, really?" says Gale grimly._

_The awful thing is that if I can forget they're people, it will be no different at all._

Cashmere felt like throwing up. The others seemed to have similar reactions. Even President Snow and Effie seemed slightly unnerved by this.

_The Peacekeepers are back too soon and Gale asks for more time, but they're taking him away and I start to panic. "Don't let them starve!" I cry out, clinging to his hand._

"_I won't! You know I won't! Katniss, remember I-" he says, and they yank us apart and slam the door and I'll never know what it was he wanted me to remember._

Gale's face heated up. "I was probably talking about the deal… you know? To take care of your family?"

"Right…" Katniss said nervously.

A look of sadness crossed Peeta's face. Perhaps he was thinking about the apparent competition he had for Katniss's affection. Maybe he thought he would never compare to Gale, and the bond they had built over the years.

In an attempt to cheer him up, Cashmere held out the book to him. "Peeta? Would you like to read next?"

The question didn't register at first, but once he realized she was talking to him, he nodded his head. "Yeah, sure."

She smiled and met him halfway through the circle to hand it to him. "Don't worry," she whispered. "If it's meant to be, it'll work out."

Her words were one of the only things that kept him from breaking down. He took his seat next to Katniss and Prim, and began reading the next horrible chapter of their book of fate.

…**..**

**You know you have bad writers block when the only way to get rid of it is by changing the POV to the perspective of one of your obscure favorite minor characters just to get it to go away. I think I'll do Peeta's POV next, or maybe go back to Katniss's. I'm trying to balance out minor and major character POV's, but it's hard since I'm such a minor character fan.**

**I'm hoping to get the next chapter up in January, but it'll probably be closer to February or March. No, let's be realistic, it'll be in April. Nah, I'll try harder than that.**

**Quote of the day, sorry if I've used it before or misquote it a bit, like I've said I'm running out of time and I'm still in my freaking pjs:**

_*as Riley's mom is walking into the door* "And here comes the Bad News Express! Toot toot!" _–Inside Out, Anger

**May the odds be ever in your favor,**

**Spectrobes Princess**


	9. Chapter 3: Part 2

5/8/16

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or anything else I may mention._

**Hi again! Well, this is most definitely a little later than I intended it to be. However, it did work out for the best since it gave me the opportunity to update on Katniss's birthday. Pretty cool, am I right?**

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**Kakima54: The way I see it, it was mentioned the Seneca had only been the head Gamemaker for a few years, so the previous one had to have done something to mess up. Several mistakes in a row seems more likely, because it would also explain how little patience Snow had with Seneca for falling for the Nightlock thing. Plus, having their arenas be one extreme or another has the whole polar opposite twin thing going for them, if that makes any sense. **

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**Josephm611: I like obscure character POV's too, obviously. There's just so much about the minor characters that we don't know! I'll try to do more in later chapters. **

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**TheEmeraldQueen: Thanks! And yes, listening to music really does help. Recently for me I think writer's block is mostly me wanting to do other things whenever it's convenient to write, and when it isn't is when I actually get the urge to write. But that's just life, isn't it?**

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**On with the story!**

…**..**

Reading The Hunger Games Chapter Nine: Effie-Mon

….

With shaking hands, Peeta returned to his seat with the book. He was almost afraid to read its contents, mostly because he had a pretty good guess as to what they were. It was almost certain that he would die in the Games and Katniss would return to her family safe and sound. This wasn't the part that bothered him though. He would give his life for Katniss in a heartbeat, as sappy as it was. The part that bothered him was that she was almost sure to forget about him and fall in love with Gale, and worse yet he knew that the book he was holding in his hands was going to document every bit of it. Still, he knew what he had to do, and flipped the book open to read.

_It's a short ride from the Justice Building to the train station. I've never been in a car before. Rarely ever ridden in wagons. In the Seam, we travel on foot._

_I've been right not to cry. The station is swarming with reporters with their insectlike cameras trained directly on my face. But I've had a lot of practice at wiping my face clean of emotions and I do this now. I catch a glimpse of myself on the television screen on the wall that's airing my arrival live and feel gratified that I appear almost bored._

Effie seemed offended by that statement. She loudly expressed this with a loud declaration of, "How ever could you even pretend to be bored? Clearly this is the most important day of your life!"

No one really bothered to comment on this, leaving Peeta to peacefully continue the story.

_Peeta Mellark on the other hand, has obviously been crying and interestingly enough does not seem to be trying to cover it up. I immediately wonder if this will be his strategy in the Games. To appear weak and frightened, to reassure the other tributes that he is no competition at all, and then come out fighting. This worked very well for a girl, Johanna Mason, from District 7 a few years back. _

"Heck yeah it did," Johanna said in what appeared to be a strange mix of pride and sarcasm, if such a thing is even possible.

_She seemed like such a sniveling, cowardly fool that no one bothered about her until there were only a handful of contestants left. It turned out she could kill viciously. Pretty clever, the way she played it. But this seems an odd strategy for Peeta Mellark because he's a baker's son. All those years of having enough to eat and hauling bread trays around have made him broad-shouldered and strong. It will take an awful lot of weeping to convince anyone to overlook him._

Peeta chose to take this as a compliment, even though he knew it probably wasn't. He was going to die soon, wasn't he? Being in denial about his chances with his lifelong crush seemed to be a decent way to spend his final days.

_We have to stand for a few minutes in the doorway of the train while the cameras gobble up our images, then we're allowed inside and the doors close mercifully behind us. The train begins to move at once._

"Now I'm just picturing the cameras trying to eat you," Marvel joked. Rue giggled at this, so he took it further and added, "Stop laughing! Do you want the camera monster to come for you in the dead of night? It'll steal your soul!"

"Okay Marvel, that's enough," Clove groaned.

Peeta took this as a sign to keep reading, if only so that Marvel would be prevented from making any more commentary.

_The speed initially takes my breath away. Of course, I've never been on a train, as travel between the districts is forbidden except for officially sanctioned duties. For us, that's mainly transporting coal. But this is no ordinary coal train. It's one of the high-speed Capitol models that average 250 miles per hour. Our journey to the Capitol will take less than a day._

"Wait, it does for you? It's always an overnight thing for us," Enobaria interrupted.

Beetee fixed his glasses before answering the younger victor's question. "The Capitol prefers the tributes to all arrive roughly at the same time. Thus, they must make the trains for the closer districts slower, and the trains for the outlying district faster. Is that correct, President Snow?"

"Indeed," he said dryly.

If Peeta had to guess, he would say that President Snow was completely against the idea of so many citizens from different districts in one place, sharing their experiences. Perhaps he was worried that if the districts were to become unified, the Capitol would slowly lose control. Sure, there were quite a few groups of victors that were rather tight-knit, but that was one thing. The general public was another.

(Of course, if they were in this room to begin with, it probably meant that they wouldn't be considered the general public for long. Whatever was about to happen was going to be big, and he didn't need a book to tell him that.)

_In school, they tell us that the Capitol was built in a place once called the Rockies. District 12 was in a region known as Appalachia. Even hundreds of years ago, they mined coal here. Which is why our miners have to dig so deep._

_Somehow it all comes back to coal at school. Besides basic reading and math most of our instruction is coal-related. Except for the weekly lecture on the history of Panem. It's mostly a lot of blather about what we owe to the Capitol. I know there must be more than they're telling us, an actual account of what happened during the rebellion. But I don't spend much time thinking about it. Whatever the truth is, I don't see how it will help me get food on the table._

There seemed to be a silent agreement that if they weren't in the presence of Capitolites there would be a bigger conversation about this. Unfortunately they were, and one of them was the president no less, so this idea had to be abandoned.

_The tribute train is fancier than even the room in the Justice Building. We are each given our own chambers that have a bedroom, a dressing area, and a private bathroom with hot and cold running water. We don't have hot water at home, unless we boil it._

Peeta felt his heart sink every time Katniss referenced life in the Seam. Life in the town wasn't all sunshine and rainbows either, but it was still slightly better than the Seam.

_There are drawers filed with fine clothes, and Effie Trinket tells me to do anything I want, wear anything I want, everything is at my disposal. Just be ready for supper in an hour. I peel off my mother's blue dress and take a hot shower. I've never had a shower before. It's like being in a summer rain, only warmer. I dress in a dark green shirt and pants._

_At last minute, I remember Madge's little gold pin. For the first time, I get a good look at it. It's as if someone fashioned a small golden bird and then attached a ring around it. The bird is connected to the ring only by its wing tips. I suddenly recognize it. A mockingjay._

_They're funny birds and something of a slap in the face to the Capitol. During the rebellion, the Capitol bred a series of genetically altered animals as weapons. The common term for them was muttations, or mutts for short. One was a special bird called a jabberjay that had the ability to memorize and repeat whole human conversations. They were homing birds, exclusively male, that were released into regions where the Capitol's enemies were known to be hiding. After the birds gathered words, they'd fly back to the centers to be recorded. It took people a while to realize what was going on in the districts, how private conversations were being transmitted. Then, of course, the rebels fed the Capitol endless lies, and the joke was on it. So the centers were shut down and the birds were abandoned to die off in the wild._

_Only they didn't die off. _

"Yeah, no duh. There's a crap-ton of 'em in District 7."

If President Snow was displeased earlier, he was absolutely furious now. His head jerked in Johanna's direction and he glared at her with deep intensity. However, she didn't take this as a sign to shut up.

"I used to think they were just mutated mockingjays, but they're jabberjays all right. They're a little loopy, like there's something wrong with them. I think the Capitol might have tried re-creating them but messed up a little so they dumped them all in 7 or something."

Finch's eyes lit up. "Really? That's amazing- I've always wanted to see one."

Johanna was about to open her mouth again, but President Snow interrupted her. "Mr. Mellark, why don't you keep reading?"

Peeta nodded, sensing more of an order than a suggestion.

_Instead, the Jabberjays mated with female mockingbirds, creating a whole new species that could replicate both bird whistles and human melodies. They had lost the ability to enunciate words but could still mimic a range of human vocal sounds, from a child's high-pitched warble to a man's deep tones. And they could recreate songs. Not just a few notes, but whole songs with multiple verses, if you had the patience to sing them and they liked your voice._

_My father was particularly fond of mockingjays. When we went hunting, he would whistle or sing complicated songs to them and, after a polite pause, they'd always sing back. Not everyone is treated with such respect. But whenever my father sang, all the birds in the area would fall silent and listen. His voice was that beautiful, high and clear and so filled of life it made you want to laugh and cry at the same time._

Peeta sighed, recalling the day he met Katniss. Her voice truly did sound that amazing, just like her father's did. His heart sank a little when he read the next sentence.

_I could never bring myself to continue the practice after he was gone. _

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he continued.

_Still, there's something comforting about the little bird. It's like having a piece of my father with me, protecting me. I fasten the pin onto my shirt, and with the dark green background, I can almost imagine the mockingjay flying through the trees._

_Effie Trinket comes to collect me for supper. _

He could've sworn he heard Marvel whisper, "Effie-mon. Gotta catch 'em all!" under his breath. Given that it didn't make much sense, he elected to ignore it.

_I follow her through the narrow, rocking corridor into a dining room with polished paneled walls. There's a table where all the dishes are highly breakable._

"They're not. Trust me, I tried once," Chaff laughed. Peeta was tempted to ask for the story, but decided not to get sidetracked.

_Peeta Mellark sits waiting for us, the chair next to him empty._

_"Where's Haymitch?" asks Effie Trinket brightly._

_"Last time I saw him, he said he was going to take a nap," says Peeta._

_"Well, it's been an exhausting day," says Effie Trinket. I think she's relieved by Haymitch's absence, and who can blame her?_

Half the room snickered at this comment, resulting in Haymitch trying to simultaneously glare at every individual in the general vicinity. Admittedly, this may have been good for him as it served as a distraction for how sober he was forced to be.

_The supper comes in courses. A thick carrot soup, green salad, lamb chops and mashed potatoes, cheese and fruit, a chocolate cake. Throughout the meal, Effie Trinket keeps reminding us to save space because there's more to come. But I'm stuffing myself because I've never had food like this, so good and so much, and because probably the best thing I can do between now and the Games is put on a few pounds._

_"At least you two have decent manners," says Effie as we're finishing the main course. "The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion."_

"Because that's the most important thing ever."

"Precisely," said Effie, completely missing the point as usual.

_The pair last year were two kids from the Seam who'd never, not one day of their lives, had enough to eat. And when they did have food, table manners were surely the last thing on their minds. Peeta's a baker's son. My mother taught Prim and me to eat properly, so yes, I can handle a fork and knife. But I hate Effie Trinket's comment so much I make a point of eating the rest of the meal with my fingers. Then I wipe my hands on the tablecloth. This makes her purse her lips tightly together._

This time, the other half of the room laughed as well, with the exception of Snow and Effie of course.

"Well kid, you're not the hero we need but you're the hero we deserve," Brutus managed to say between laughs.

_Now that the meal's over, I'm fighting to keep the food down. I can see Peeta's looking a little green, too. Neither of our stomachs are used to such fare. But if I can hold down Greasy Sae's concoction of mice meat, pig entrails, and tree bark -a winter specialty- I'm determined to hang on to this._

Snow looked a little pale as well. Peeta briefly recalled how he fainted a few chapters ago upon realizing he ate wild dog. Despite the fact that President Snow openly endorsed carnage on a yearly basis, it could easily be rationalized by the fact that everyone has their own little things that squick them out.

_We go to another compartment to watch the recap of the reapings across Panem. They try to stagger them throughout the day so a person could conceivably watch the whole thing live, but only people in the Capitol could really do that, since none of them have to attend reapings themselves._

_One by one, we see the other reapings, the names called, the volunteers stepping forward or, more often, not. We examine the faces of the kids who will be our competition. A few stand out in my mind. A monstrous boy who lunges forward to volunteer in District 2. A fox-faced girl from District 5. A boy with a crippled foot from District 10. And most hauntingly, a twelve year old girl from District 11. She has dark brown skin and eyes, but other than that, she's very much like Prim in size and demeanor. Only when she mounts the stage and they ask for volunteers, all you can hear is the end whistling through the decrepit buildings around her. There's no one willing to take her place._

The description of the girl sounded oddly familiar. Subconsciously, Peeta's eyes wondered to Rue. Tears ran down her cheeks as Prim squeezed her hand comfortingly and Marvel wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Dread filled Peeta, and he felt nauseous at the thought of someone so innocent being forced into the Games.

"Hey," Marvel said quietly. "The book didn't mention your name, did it? It might not even be you. It'll be okay."

Rue nodded her head and wiped her tears away. "It's okay Peeta. You can keep reading."

"Are you sure? I mean, if you need a minute I can…"

Rue shook her head, so Peeta kept reading.

_Last of all, they show District 12. Prim being called, me running forward to volunteer. You can't miss the desperation in my voice as I shove Prim behind me, as if I'm afraid no one will hear me and they'll take Prim away. But, of course, they do hear. I see Gale pulling her off me and watch myself mount the stage. The commentators are not sure what to say about the crowd's refusal to applaud. The silent salute. One says that District 12 has always been a bit backward but that local customs can be charming. As if on cue, Haymitch falls off the stage, and they groan comedically._

"Thus immortalizing your failures for all eternity," Cashmere snickered.

"I'm not even going to respond to that," Haymitch sneered.

_Peeta's name is drawn, and he quietly takes his place. We shake hands. They cut to the anthem again, and the program ends._

_Effie Trinket is disgruntled about the state her wig was in. "Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behavior."_

Chaff subtly high-fived Haymitch with his remaining hand.

_Peeta unexpectedly laughs. "He was drunk," says Peeta. "He's drunk every year."_

_"Every day," I add. _

"And proud of it," Haymitch laughs, much to Effie and Cashmere's disgust.

_I can't help smirking a little. Effie Trinket makes it sound like Haymitch just has somewhat rough manners that could be corrected with a few tips from her._

"_That _is exactly the problem!" She shrieked, but Haymitch and Chaff were too busy high-fiving each other again to notice.

_"Yes," hisses Effie Trinket. "How odd you two find it amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in these Games. The one who advises you, lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can well be the difference between your life and death!"_

This realization gained Katniss and Peeta many kind glances of sympathy.

_Just then, Haymitch staggers into the compartment. "I miss supper?"_ _He says in a slurred voice._

"That's okay Mitch, we all miss supper. Too bad she went on that vacation to the charred remains of District 13," Cashmere said dryly.

"First of all missy, it's _Hay_mitch. Who would name their kid Mitch? That's just stupid," Haymitch scoffed.

Annie decided to speak up. "Actually, before the Dark Days it was pretty popular…"

Haymitch tried to wave his hand dismissively, but the motion magnified the pain from his hangover too much. His half-hearted attempt got the point across, though.

_Then he vomits all over the expensive carpet and falls into the mess._

While the rest of the room seemed at least mildly disgusted, the victors were trying to hold back their laughter. Most of them succeeded. Johanna did not.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh away," Haymitch said with a glare.

_"So laugh away!" Says Effie Trinket._

Effie made a face of disgust at the irony of her future self's statement.

_She hops in her pointy shoes around the pool of vomit and flees the room._

…**..**

**I want to do the next update around my birthday. It's in just over a month, so it doesn't seem likely. If it turns out like that, then the next update will probably end up being towards the end of July, since I'm considering writing a Fourth of July themed fic and that will take up a considerable amount of my writing time. I don't know if I actually will or not though, so knows?**

**Quote of the day!**

"_What an excellent view- unless you're the audience. Then you've been staring at an elephant's behind for 30 seconds" –_the Loony Tunes movie my brother is watching

**May the odds be ever in your favor, **

**Spectrobes Princess**


	10. Chapter 4: Part 1

10/7/16

**I don't even have a reasonable excuse this time. This has literally been the worst season my writing career has ever endured. And this chapter is possibly the crappiest thing I have written since 2013. But you know what? I'm going to post it anyways. Because the fact that I actually finished a chapter over the past couple of months is a huge accomplishment, and even though it's almost as bad as My Immortal I'm proud enough of myself to overlook that. Besides, I know what it's like to wait for a fanfic to get updated. I've been tormenting you for long enough.**

**Thank you everyone who has followed this story, reviewed it, or loved it enough to add it to their favorites. It really means a lot to me. I wish I had enough energy/time to mention everyone by name like I normally do, but that's life I guess. **

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or anything else I may mention_

…**..**

**Reading The Hunger Games**

**Chapter Ten: The Sassy Haymitch Show (guest staring the pile of broken concrete that used to be known as the fourth wall)**

…**..**

The room giggled at the image of Effie playing "dodge the vomit". Peeta couldn't help but smirk as well. Sure, the circumstances behind the incident were less than pleasant, yet at the same time it was easy to see the silver lining. Perhaps maybe there was a good thing about having Haymitch for a mentor, Peeta mused to himself.

_For a few moments, Peeta and I take in the scene of our mentor trying to rise out of the slippery vile stuff from his stomach. The reek of vomit and raw spirits almost brings my dinner up. We exchange a glance. Obviously Haymitch isn't much, but Effie Trinket is right about one thing: Once we're in the arena, he's all we've got. As if by some unspoken agreement, Peeta and I each take one of Haymitch's arms and help him to his feet._

_"I tripped?" Haymitch asks. "Smells bad." He wipes his hand on his nose, smearing his face with vomit._

"Lovely," Clove said dryly.

_"Let's get you back to your room," says Peeta. "Clean you up a bit."_

_We half-lead half-carry Haymitch back to his compartment. Since we can't exactly set him down on the embroidered bedspread, we haul him into the bathtub and turn the shower on him. He hardly notices._

_"It's okay," Peeta says to me. "I'll take it from here."_

Johanna stood up and took the bobby pin out of her hair, holding it to her heart.

"A moment of silence," she said in a voice filled of false pity, "for our brave, stupid soldier."

"We already had silence," Chaff said. "Perfectly good silence. And you just broke it."

Johanna stuck her tongue out at the older victor and sat back down.

_I can't help feeling a little grateful since the last thing I want to do is strip down Haymitch, wash the vomit out of his chest hair, and tuck him into bed._

"Are you sure? Because that sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me," Marvel quipped.

Haymitch smirked. "Good to know. I've been looking for a maid."

This shut Marvel up in record time.

_Possibly Peeta is trying to make a good impression on him, to be his favorite once the Games begin. _

Peeta himself highly doubted it. If anything, he knew that he would want Katniss to be Haymitch's favorite. It wasn't like he had much to go home to anyways. Katniss had her mother and sister, and Gale. Compared to that, he had no one. His mother hated him, and his father and brothers mostly avoided him because of this. Any show of kindness towards him was thoroughly mocked by his mother, and had even been known to result in punishment. In the end, he came to the conclusion that he was merely trying to save Katniss from the horrific sight he was about to see (a sight he was _really_ not looking forward to).

_But judging by the state he's in, Haymitch will have no memory of this tomorrow._

"Sweetheart, you don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh really," Enobaria asked. "What did you eat for dinner last night?"

Haymitch smirked. "Meat."

Something like disgust flashed in Enobaria's eyes. Brutus wrapped his arms around her shoulders and glared at Haymitch.

"Haymitch 2, everyone else 0!"

"Will you please shut up?" Finch asked.

"Not unless you give me alcohol."

The rest of the room groaned.

"Yeah, that's right! I'm going to keep interrupting until you let me get drunk! Take that!"

"Oh please, by all means. Keep interrupting then," Cashmere said.

Noticing the look on Haymitch's face, Gloss added, "It's just not happening."

_"All right," I say. "I can send one of the Capitol people to help you." There's any number on the train. Cooking for us. Waiting on us. Guarding us. Taking care of us is their job._

_"No, I don't want them," says Peeta._

"But Charlie, they care about you!" Marvel exclaimed.

Peeta decided to go ahead and pause before someone could inevitably interrupt him. Sure enough, Johanna did.

"Marvel… what the actual heck."

"What, haven't you guys ever seen Charlie the Unicorn?"

No one responded. Peeta dismissed it as the usual senseless Marvel babble.

_I nod and head to my own room. I understand how Peeta feels. I can't stand the sight of Capitol people myself._

"Wheeeeeeeen, you're feeling all alone, your life's a drone, and nobody's shown any love to youuuuuuuu!"

"Marvel, are you done acting like a five year old?" Cato asked.

Marvel crossed his eyes and looked the other way. "Fine, be like that!"

Rue shyly put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry Marvel. I think you're funny."

"Don't encourage him," President Snow said as he scowled. It wasn't much of a difference from the face he normally made, so no one really noticed.

_But making them deal with Haymitch might be a small form of revenge. So I'm pondering the reason why he insists on taking care of Haymitch and all of a sudden I think, It's because he's being kind. Just as he was being kind with the bread._

_The idea pulls me up short. A kind Peeta Mellark is far more dangerous to me than an unkind one. Kind people have a way of working their way inside me and rooting there. And I can't let Peeta do this. Not where we're going. So I decide, from this moment on, to have as little as possible to do with the baker's son._

"Well, aren't you just a little ray of sunshine," Johanna scoffed.

Katniss's cheeks turned pink.

"I think you're hurting his feelings," Annie said quietly.

"It's okay, I understand," Peeta sighed. "I'm the competition, right?"

The silence fell heavy on the room, before Peeta asked, "Annie, would you like to read next?"

Annie blushed and looked at her feet. "I… I don't know if that's a good idea," she stuttered.

Peeta was suddenly aware of the way that President Snow's glare was now fixed upon him. This made him think twice about the offer. He wasn't even sure why he asked, actually. However, this seemed to make Finnick determined to let Annie have a turn. Finnick's defensiveness didn't make much sense to Peeta at first, until he realized that Annie was his only surviving tribute. Of course he'd be protective, regardless of how much the Capitol tended to make fun of her while portraying him in a positive light.

Finnick carefully pushed a strand of hair out of Annie's eyes, oblivious of the look the president gave him. "Nothing's stopping you. I'll go get it for you if you want me to."

Annie looked up at President Snow, and a hint of a smirk danced on her lips. "No thank you Finn. I'll get it myself."

She gracefully got up and took the book from Peeta, head held high. Most of the victors were smiling smugly and the look at President Snow's face.

Annie took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them and began to read.

_When I get back to my room, the train is pausing at a platform to refuel. I quickly open the window, toss the cookies Peeta's father gave me out of the train, and slam the glass shut. No more. No more of either of them._

"Keep reading before Marvel makes a tossing the cookies joke," Finnick whispered maybe a little too loudly. Then again, Finnick wasn't very good at whispering. He was just naturally loud, like a microwave alerting you that your pizza rolls are done at three in the morning. You can't really blame the microwave for doing its job though, even if it does wake up your (rather grouchy) parents. Not that the author is speaking from a personal experience, of course…

No, really. The author has never fixed pizza rolls at 3 am. But according to Tumblr, doing such is apparently A Thing (TM), so that's that.

Wait, what were we talking about again?

_Unfortunately, the packet of cookies hits the ground and busts open in a patch of dandelions by the track. I only see the image for a moment, because the train is off again, but it's enough. Enough to remind me of that other dandelion in the school yard years ago..._

"Flashback time," Marvel whispered.

_I had just turned away from Peeta Mellark's bruised face when I saw the dandelion and I knew hope wasn't lost. I plucked it carefully and hurried home. I grabbed a bucket and Prim's hand and headed to the Meadow and yes, it was dotted with the golden-headed weeds. After we'd harvested those, we scrounged along inside the fence for probably a mile until we'd filled the bucket with the dandelion greens, stems, and flowers. That night, we gorged ourselves on dandelion salad and the rest of the bakery bread._

_"What else?" Prim asked me. "What other food can we find?"_

_"All kinds of things," I promised her. "I just have to remember them."_

_My mother had a book she'd brought with her from the apothecary shop. The pages were made of old parchment and covered in ink drawings of plants. Neat handwritten blocks told their names, where to gather them, when they came in bloom, their medical uses. But my father added other entries to the book. Plants for eating, not healing. Dandelions, pokeweed, wild onions, pines. Prim and I spent the rest of the night pouring over those pages._

_The next day, we were off school. For a while I hung around the edges of the Meadow, but finally I worked up the courage to go under the fence. _

At this point, President Snow seemed to barely be phased by the mentions of Katniss's illegal activities. On the other hand, this didn't stop Peeta from worrying about how safe Katniss would be when they all went home. Sure, she would be going into the Hunger Games anyways if this book really did tell the future, but at the same time he knew there had to be something the president could do to make her remaining moments of life more miserable.

_It was the first time I'd been there alone, without my father's weapons to protect me. But I retrieved the small bow and arrows he'd made for me from a hollow tree. I probably didn't go more than twenty yards into the woods that day. Most of the time, I perched up in the branches of an old oak, hoping for game to come by. After several hours, I had the good luck to kill a rabbit. I'd shot a few rabbits before, with my father's guidance. But this I'd done on my own._

Peeta felt bad for asking Annie to read, since the mention of killing something made her paler than normal. She seemed to get over it though, luckily enough. Effie, on the other hand, was absolutely _not_ over it. Her gasp of horror and what appeared to be mild offense echoed through the room in such a manner that it was nearly impossible to ignore. It was funny, really, how shaken up a Capitolite could be at the mention of illegally killing an animal whist they themselves supported the murder of children on a yearly basis.

_We hadn't had meat in months. The sight of the rabbit seemed to stir something in my mother. She roused herself, skinned the carcass, and made a stew with the meat and some more greens Prim had gathered. Then she acted confused and went back to bed, but when the stew was done we made her eat a bowl._

_The woods became our savior, and each day I went a bit farther into its arms. It was slow-going at first, but I was determined to feed us. I stole eggs from nests, caught fish in nets, sometimes managed to shoot a squirrel or rabbit for stew, and gathered various plants that sprung up beneath my feet. Plants are tricky. Many are edible, but one false mouthful and you're dead. I checked and double checked the plants I harvested with my father's pictures. I kept us alive._

_Any sign of danger, a distant howl, the inexplicable break of a branch, sent me flying back to the fence at first. Then I began to risk climbing trees to escape the wild dogs that quickly got bored and moved on. Bears and cats lived deeper in, perhaps disliking the sooty reek of our district._

"Hey Effie? If you go to District 12 every year, does that mean you like the smell?" Haymitch laughed.

Effie gasped, looking more offended than ever.

"Cashmere, didn't you used to work for a perfumer? You could always set Effie up with some nice District 12 perfume."

Cashmere rolled her eyes and whispered to Johanna as Annie kept reading, "What if I wanted to send it to Snow instead?"

_On May 8th, I went to the Justice Building, signed up for my tesserae, and pulled home my first batch of grain and oil in Prim's toy wagon. On the eighth of every month, I was entitled to do the same. I couldn't stop hunting and gathering, of course. The grain was not enough to live on, and there were other things to buy, soap and milk and thread. What we didn't absolutely have to eat, I began to trade at the Hob. It was frightening to enter that place without my father at my side, but people had respected him, and they accepted me. Game was game after all, no matter who'd shot it. I also sold at the back doors of wealthier clients in town, trying to remember what my father had told me and learning a few new tricks as well. The butcher would buy my rabbits but not squirrels. The baker enjoyed squirrel but would only trade for one if his wife wasn't around. The Head Peacekeeper loved wild turkey. The mayor had a passion for strawberries._

_In late summer, I was washing up in a pond when I noticed the plants growing around me. Tall with leaves like arrowheads. Blossoms with the white petals. I knelt down in the water, my fingers digging into the soft mud, and I pulled up handfuls of roots. Small, bluish tubers that don't look like much but boiled or baked are as good as any potato. "Katniss," I said aloud. It's the plant I was named for. And I heard my father's voice joking, "As long as you can find yourself, you'll never starve."_

"So… cannibalism, right?" Marvel quipped.

"Marvel, can you maybe not-"

Haymitch was interrupted, by Marvel (no surprise there). "Hungry? Well that's okay! You've got you're good friend Mr. Cannibal! Time to saw off an arm! Yum yum!"

Peeta looked away from Marvel and back to Annie. She was shaking, desperately trying to keep the book in her trembling hands. Her breathing seemed to be a little faster as well, and it border lined on hyperventilating.

"Shut up, Marvel!" Gloss snapped, but it was too late.

The book fell to the ground as Annie clamped her hands over her ears. A loud whimper emerged from her throat, followed by a scream.

"Everyone out!" Finnick snapped.

In a panic, everyone started running out of the room, trampling one another on the way out. Peeta, however, was too startled to move until Johanna grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him out herself with Marvel.

"Are you as deaf" she snapped.

"What's going on?" Peeta asked.

Johanna was angrier than Peeta had ever seen her. "Panic attack. Remember that kid from District 6 who started eating people? He was her ally."

"I didn't know," Marvel apologized.

Johanna scoffed. "Well, now you do."

She walked off, joining the other victors. And for a brief moment, Peeta wondered if they would ever get through the book.

Little did he know, his fate was entirely up to a very lazy 16 year old girl. They were completely and utterly _doomed_.

…

**So I think we can all agree that this chapter wasn't one of my better works. It's like I said though, I've been in a funk lately. It doesn't excuse how terribly the end of the chapter was written though. I've been writing it out in my head during slow days at work, but for whatever reason putting the masterpiece I created in my head onto the Microsoft document just didn't work. But hey, I think if I keep writing, I'll get over it.**

**Quote of the day!**

"_Excuse me. Have I been kidnapped?"_

"_Unclear."_

-The Flash, Caitlin Snow (Killer Frost) and Wally West (Kid Flash)

**(Yes, I **_**am **_**still freaking out over the season 3 premiere don't judge me)**

**May the odds be ever in your favor,**

**Spectrobes Princess**


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